


The Shape I Found You In

by redbrickrose



Category: Panic At The Disco
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-31
Updated: 2009-12-31
Packaged: 2017-10-05 12:57:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redbrickrose/pseuds/redbrickrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Growing up, and growing into being in love with your best friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Shape I Found You In

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [](http://elucidate-this.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**elucidate_this**](http://elucidate-this.dreamwidth.org/) for the beta and the encouragement.
> 
> Originally for bandom big bang 2009; Title taken from Girlyman's [The Shape I Found You In](http://www.mediafire.com/download.php?zjyjlkmumjy).

A week after Panic at the Disco's fourth album comes out, Ryan breaks up with Just Enough's bassist, Jake. At least it's a break up if you consider what they were doing "dating" and not "just fucking," which depends on if you ask Jake or Ryan. Luckily whatever it was doesn't go on long enough for anyone to think to ask either of them anything in public.

Spencer, who only ever considered it "sneaking around like teenagers" (much to Ryan's annoyance), is kind of surprised when Pete calls to tell him that Just Enough is pulling out of the tour, but it's okay because it was still early in the planning stages and shifting the schedule isn't a big deal. Just Enough can tour with Cobra because Kate and Gabe deserve each other and The Cab was itching to tour with Panic again anyway and really it's all going to be fine and Spencer shouldn't worry.

Spencer says, "Umm, okay," and tries to pretend like he knows what Pete's talking about.

Pete says, "You know, when Brendon fucks the bassists from baby bands he manages to leave it so that they don't hate him and everything he stands for."

"Cash is really easy-going, though," Spencer says.

"Cash is just easy," Pete says, "and Jake renounces Ryan and all of his works. His words. What happened exactly?"

Spencer pulls as much sarcasm as he can to the surface and says, "What do you _think_ happened?" because he doesn't actually know anything specific, but if he doesn't act like he knows at least as much as Pete does, it's going to lead to uncomfortable questions. He's aware that he's implying that Ryan was an asshole, but, well, it's not like there's not precedent.

"Never mind," says Pete, "I just knew you'd be worried, and I couldn't imagine that Ryan is being all that reassuring, so I wanted you to hear it from me that the label is not. You guys, The Cab, Hey Monday, it's a little a unconventional to have three bigger names and none of the beginning bands, but it's a good line up. It might be a little tense because Cassadee'll be pissed that she won't get to tour with Kate, but it'll blow over. As for the rest of it, there'll be rumors, but you guys know how to navigate those. It'll be fine."

Spencer rubs at his eyes. Pete's worried or he wouldn't be insisting so hard that he's not, which isn't exactly comforting, but the most worrying part of this entire conversation is that Spencer hadn't actually known enough to be that concerned until right now.

Whatever happened, Ryan hasn't been forthcoming with the details. He's always private; he likes attention of particular kinds and in particular ways, but it's fairly normal for him to go to great lengths to avoid acknowledging the kind that makes him look bad. Spencer would bet money that this situation falls into that category.

Spencer sighs. "Have you had this conversation with Ryan?"

There's a long pause before Pete says - slowly, with more obvious, suspicious concern - " ...Yes. Haven't you?"

Spencer says, "I have to go," and hangs up.

The whole thing with Jake and Ryan was nothing, as far as Spencer knew or could see. Ryan liked the kid, sure, (not that three years is that wide of an age gap, but Just Enough is still so new to this, sometimes it feels wider) but mostly it looked like a couple months of Ryan getting off on the other side of hero worship for once. In all fairness to Ryan, from an outsider's perspective it had always seemed really casual. In all fairness to Jake, Ryan's been shit at relationships lately - arguably he always kind of was, but there was a time when he could at least maintain them - and this isn't the first short-lived fling that's ended badly recently, though it is the first one with someone they were contractually obligated to see again.

Spencer sends a text message that says, _Don't shit where you eat._

When Ryan doesn't respond, Spencer calls him.

When Ryan finally deigns to answer his phone two days later, Spencer says, "What the fuck?"

Ryan says, "Don't worry, it's dealt with," and sounds tired.

Spencer says, "Where have you been? Are you okay? Are you freaking out?"

Ryan says, "She may not have been the best ever, but I do have a mother you know."

"Fuck you, when was the last time you paid your electricity bill on your own?"

There's a long pause before Ryan says, a little triumphantly, "It's direct deposit." He doesn't sound completely sure, but then he adds, "Come on, I've been handling that on my own for . . ."

"Months, at least," Spencer says, but he has to concede that it has been awhile. It's been well over a year since Eric left to move in with his girlfriend. Ryan hasn't had a roommate since and he has – more or less – managed to function like an adult in that time. Or at least he seems to have figured out how to make sure that his lights and water stay on.

Ryan says, "Fuck you," but it's without real venom.

Spencer sighs. "No, seriously, are you okay?"

"_Yes_. I'm fine." Ryan doesn't exactly sound fine, but it's mostly exasperation that's coloring his voice.

"Are you eating?" It really is a reasonable question, because sometimes Ryan doesn't. It's not like it's intentional. Ryan gets scattered under stress; he gets too caught up in his own head and forgets, or just can't be bothered with, mundanities.

Ryan says, "I'm a pot head. What do you think?"

Spencer says, "Whatever, eat a vegetable," and Ryan hangs up on him.

***

Just Enough's album drops a couple weeks later and it's around that time that the rumors start in earnest. If it was just internet rumors, it wouldn't be new. Fans have thought that Ryan and Brendon were fucking since _Fever_. (They were right for about two months in early 2006). The problem is that The Pictures hit the internet at around the same time.

They must have been taken during the recording of Just Enough's album; Spencer recognizes the studio, and Ryan did guest on one of the songs. It's Jake and Ryan, outside in the back; it's easy to see how they would have thought they were in the shadows, and blocked by the fence anyway, but still it's reckless, especially for Ryan. Ryan's hand is on the side of Jake's face, Jake's hand is on Ryan's waist. In one picture they're kissing; in one their faces are inches apart. It's fairly unmistakable. Spencer thinks _fuck_.

And the thing is, it might not matter if they could laugh it off. If they were still friends, if Just Enough hadn't pulled out of the tour, if there wasn't already a clear rift that was causing rumors, it still might slide. They're on _Decaydance_. What's a little making out between friends? But Jake and Ryan aren't friends anymore and that's already become painfully clear to anyone paying attention; there's no spin for this that won't look like damage control.

It matters less than it would have a couple of years ago. Back then, Ryan would have been terrified of it affecting the band, but having a band member in a relationship with a guy already hasn't affected them. Brendon and Shane are all over the internet, all over the magazines, and when Brendon came out (gradually in a series of throw away comments on stage and in interviews that eventually culminated in a rather dramatic Out.com interview) album sales actually went _up_. But that was his choice; Brendon came out on his own terms. This is different; this is out of Ryan's control. Ryan doesn't deal well with being out of control. Sometimes he refuses to deal with it at all.

Ryan stops answering his phone completely; there's nothing on his twitter or his blog.   
He does occasionally respond to a text message with I'M FINE (in frustrated, capital letters), but otherwise he's unresponsive until his silence – and his absence – becomes a constant, nagging itch.

***

Jake writes, _Think of what you did, and I hope to God she was worth it_ on his blog, which gives at least a vague kind of answer to Pete's "What exactly happened?" question. (Spencer texts Lindy, Just Enough's drummer and only sane member, with a link to the blog and a series of question marks. She texts back with _Theres nothing i can do, its out of my hands, dont even talk to me right now, i cant be caught fraternizing with the enemy_. That's that, then. Steve's useless and Kate's so defensive of her brother that it's possible she's even more pissed off than Jake is).

Predictably, the internet descends on Jake's blog post. When Ryan still won't answer his fucking phone, Spencer calls Brendon. When Brendon doesn't answer _his_ phone, Spencer calls Shane. Shane doesn't answer either, so then Spencer calls Brendon's phone seven more times and Shane's phone five more times and then Brendon's phone again before Brendon finally answers, flustered and out of breath. "Oh, my God, Spence. What? This had better be an emergency."

"You could have turned off your phones," Spencer says, admitting to himself (but not to Brendon) that in that case he probably would have just gone over to their house and leaned on the doorbell. He was about one more missed call from doing that anyway.

Brendon huffs, "I was hoping not to have to get out of bed to go into the other room and dig underneath pizza boxes to find my phone in the first place. We are on a much deserved break. What do you need?"

"You're gross."

"Yeah, whatever, you say that I like don't spend most of my life on a tour bus with you. Seriously, I'm really busy and I'm going to explain to you in graphic detail just how busy I am unless you tell me what you want in five words or less."

"Ryan's not answering his phone."

"Neither was I."

"Brendon, come on."

Brendon sighs. "Dude, is this about the Jake thing? He told me it wasn't a big deal."

"And you believed him?"

"...Yes? He really didn't sound that upset. Jake's being quiet about it."

"When did you talk to him last?"

"I don't know? He called me a couple of days ago, I guess. Why?"

There's a twinge, sharp and focused, in Spencer's chest at the knowledge that Ryan went to Brendon instead of him. He tells himself it makes sense. Brendon's the one who's been through it, and besides, Ryan and Brendon have a weird layer to their friendship, only noticeable at times like this, some kind of residual understanding left over from whatever happened between them early on. (Not that all that much happened. Ryan gave Spencer the play-by-play during his fifteen second sexuality crisis before he decided it was more artistic to refuse to label himself, which, whatever. Spencer doesn't know what that even means, but if you replace "more artistic" with "easier" Spencer figured that shit out when he was about thirteen - around the first and only time he had Ryan's tongue in his mouth). Ryan and Brendon are over each other if they were ever under each other in any way other than the literal one, which never seemed to be the case, but in the beginning they were broken together too, all jagged pieces that didn't fit when they tried to make them. It explains a lot of what went down back then, and it explains why they sometimes get each other now in unexpected ways, even if they still spend a lot of time making each other crazy.

Spencer asks, "Did you see the internet today?"

"Do you think I saw the internet today?" Now Brendon sounds worried. "...Why? What happened?"

"Jake's being a little less quiet."

"Fuck. And...Ryan's MIA?"

"More or less."

"And you want to, what? ...Go over there? Stage an intervention?"

"Something like that."

"Maybe you should go."

"He hasn't talked to me in two weeks."

There's a - really - long pause and then Brendon, clearly surprised and trying to sound reassuring, says, "Well ... I don't think he's been talking to anybody much. It's Ryan; maybe he just really needs space."

"He's had enough space."

"So you want me to ring the doorbell while you hide in the bushes so you can ambush him when he opens the door?"

"Strength in numbers," Spencer says, trying to inject as much don't-fuck-with-me-Brendon into his voice as possible.

Brendon sighs. "Okay. I have to find my pants."

***

It's not that Brendon's presence is in any way likely to calm Ryan down if Ryan is already predisposed to be upset, but Ryan has at least been talking to Brendon. If Spencer had gone to Ryan's by himself he's pretty sure they would have ended up having the confrontation about how Ryan's been ignoring him before Spencer even got in the door, and that's not really the point – or at least it's not the primary point. Spencer's a little bit pissed off about that, yeah, but he's more concerned.

If Jon were around, it would be even better. Jon could probably get Ryan to leave the house. Of course, when Spencer called Jon, Jon suggested (gently, in his mellow, Jon way) that Spencer was overreacting and possibly more freaked out than Ryan is. Jon talked to Ryan this morning and Ryan sounded _fine_. Spencer's a little hurt by that too, actually, but he suspects it has something to do with the fact that Jon's not actually here, and maybe with the fact that Jon _can_ keep his distance if Ryan needs him to. Spencer can't; he can give Ryan space and silence, but no real distance because he can't not see. Even when he tries, Ryan's too readable for him. That was a necessity when they were growing up. Ryan's no good with emotional exposure, and Spencer had to be able to see through Ryan's walls anyway, so that when Ryan couldn't be open, he didn't have to be. He didn't have to let Spencer in because Spencer was already there. Spencer knows that Ryan hates it sometimes, the transparency and the concern Spencer can't let go of, but he doesn't usually shut Spencer out because of it.

"Maybe he's not here," Brendon says as he rings the doorbell for the second time but as soon as the words are out, they hear the sound of the lock turning.

Ryan opens the door and says, "Hey, Brendon, what's..." he trails off when Spencer steps in front of Brendon and raises one eyebrow accusingly. Ryan quirks his mouth, clearly battling between annoyance and amusement, and nods. "...Spencer. Okay. Hi guys. What's up?"

"Spencer's..." Brendon starts, but Spencer cuts him off.

"_We're_ worried about you," Spencer says.

Ryan says, "Okay," and nods again. He looks resigned more than anything; Spencer would be sympathetic except for the shadows under Ryan's eyes. Sometimes Ryan needs space, but sometimes Ryan only thinks he needs space. Spencer knows the difference because he's been _doing this for fucking ever_.

Ryan looks at Brendon for verification and Brendon looks back and forth between Ryan and Spencer like he thinks he's missing something and doesn't like it. There's not a lot Brendon doesn't know about either of them by this point and he's more observant than he really lets on most of the time, but there are still things that it takes almost twenty years of history to really understand.

Brendon finally shrugs and takes a step toward Ryan. " ... Should we be worried?"

Ryan sighs and rubs his hand over his eyes. "If I say no, will that change anything?"

Brendon looks at Spencer and says, "I don't think so."

"Can we come in?" Spencer asks at the same time, edging around Ryan.

"Apparently," Ryan says, the eyeroll clear in his voice, as he pushes the door open wider and motions Brendon into the house. The house smells vaguely, but not overwhelmingly, of pot smoke. Ryan's laptop is open on the coffee table and the screen shows the ever growing comment section of Jake's blog post, but the house isn't strewn with empty coffee cups and scribble-filled notebooks or any other obvious signs of things getting messy in Ryan's head. He's actually dressed (though admittedly in the jeans and t-shirt that constitute normal clothes for a normal person but are without Ryan's usual flare) and the only books Spencer can see out are _Return of the King_ (which means comfort reading, but not destructive comfort reading) and _The Picture of Dorian Gray_ (to be expected; half the songs on the new album have Oscar Wilde references). At least there's no visible evidence of anything written by Chuck Palahniuk.

Spencer looks over at Ryan, realizing Ryan's watching him. Ryan bites his lip, like he's holding back the edge of a laugh and cocks his head like he's reading Spencer's mind. Spencer raises his eyebrows. Ryan folds his arms over his chest and says, "Are you done? Or do you want to confiscate my copy of _Invisible Monsters_?"

That would be creepy even for them if Spencer hadn't threatened to do just that during Ryan's post-Keltie Palahniuk relapse. (Spencer likes _Fight Club_ as much as the next guy, okay? But those books are a little too specifically symbolic of a certain mindset for Ryan and he should not reread them in moments of emotional distress. It doesn't end well. This is not in Spencer's head. It's not like there's not precedent for that not ending well).

Spencer glares and says, "Don't act like I'm crazy."

It's not that Ryan doesn't keep it together when he has to. He does. He always has. It's that he keeps it together through tension and rigid control. He's lightened up, yes, but even two years ago, even one, this wasn't the kind of thing he would have shrugged off. In all fairness, he isn't shrugging now either. He does look tense; he looks annoyed and too tired, but not angry, not the way Spencer would have expected.

Ryan sighs. "You're a little crazy, but no. I know. I get that you were worried. It really is okay, though. It's just ..." he trails off and gestures half-heartedly at the computer, "This is gonna be fun, right?" He laughs a little and it isn't without humor, but he still sounds exhausted.

Brendon sits down and pulls Ryan's laptop toward him, scrolling through the comments. "It might be entertaining for awhile. They all seem to think you and Jake broke up because I'm leaving Shane for you. We could spend the entire tour fucking with them during the stage show."

Ryan drops his head into his hands and mumbles something about how he wasn't really dating Jake to begin with.

Spencer leans over Brendon's shoulder. "They really do seem to think that. I've been reading those threads all day."

Ryan looks up. "Oh, yeah? All day?" He asks absently, with an edge of real curiosity underneath. Spencer scrolls down further in the comments, studies the computer screen.

Ryan shakes his head. "You're next, Spence. Three out of the four of us; can you imagine how that would go over?" He's kidding. That's clear. There's some bitterness in his voice, but it's a throw away comment. Still, that same edge forces through just under the humor and it catches Spencer off guard. Sure, there have been boys - not many because it was Haley for so long and then Maria when he first got to California, if only for awhile, but one or two, in between, it happens, but it's not...it's never really been something he worried about much for himself. He's never had a situation where it was relevant; he's never - really - expected it to become relevant. It's not something he usually thinks much about.

But maybe he has been thinking about it just a little bit more the last couple of days.

Ryan's eyes are sharp when Spencer meets them and Spencer looks away. When the silence goes on long enough to make Brendon uncomfortable (so, no longer than about thirty seconds), Brendon snaps the lap top shut and jumps up, grabbing them both by the elbow and dragging them toward the TV. "Enough of that. Video games. Beer."

Shane shows up two hours into the Mario Kart tournament because Brendon texts him in what he no doubt thinks is a subtle fashion once it becomes clear that Ryan is going to tolerate their presence, but is going to ignore any and all of Spencer's attempts to get him to Talk About It. Shane brings pizza and more beer and they play more Mario Kart and around midnight they call Jon in Chicago because he's been gone too long and they miss him. It's a good night. Ryan's too quiet, even for Ryan, and Spencer feels every second of it, a low tug of discomfort under his skin, but Brendon is typically exuberant and Shane gets into the fact that he can kick all of their asses at every video game ever (except Guitar Hero, Brendon points out indignantly, but Ryan doesn't have Guitar Hero; he might allow it in his presence now, but that doesn't extend to owning it), and Ryan really relaxes. The tension visibly eases and he stops shooting Spencer weird looks when the others aren't paying attention. So then Spencer can relax too and lean back against the couch, his shoulder warm and solid against Ryan's.

Finally Shane asserts definitive Mario superiority and throws down his controller, reaching for Brendon and tugging at his sleeve, pulling Brendon towards him. Brendon goes easily, biting his lip and turning his body so that he's almost straddling Shane on the couch.

Ryan groans, "Oh my God. By all means go defile each other some more. I'm sorry we kept you from it for so long. Blame Spencer."

Brendon kicks at Ryan's leg. "It's okay. This was awesome. It's just, you know, I feel weird wearing clothes. This might the longest amount of time I've spent dressed in weeks." He wiggles his eyebrows and Ryan makes a face and turns his head, laughing softly into Spencer's shoulder.

Brendon stands up and backs up, holding onto Shane's hands and tugging him to his feet. There's the edge of a hickey clearly visible under Shane's collar and Spencer looks away, taking another swig of beer that's suddenly hitting him harder than he thought it was.

There's a surge of an emotion old enough that he's never named it because he's never had to. It's not really gradual, one second he's barely conscious of it and the next second the thought is fully formed in his brain like it's been there all along and he just never noticed. Brendon used to leave those same marks on Ryan; Jac left scratches down his back. Keltie left a shadow in his eyes for a long time and Spencer can still remember what her perfume smelled like against Ryan's skin. That picture of Ryan with Jake, sunlit and too intimate, paints itself across the inside of Spencer's eyelids when he closes his eyes. Spencer shakes his head to clear it and when he opens his eyes, Ryan's looking at him oddly again.

Brendon lets Shane tug him toward the door, but he stops in the doorway and turns back to Ryan, who got up to follow them, and puts one hand on his shoulder, studying him.

"So ...you are okay, right? 'Cause we're gonna deal with this." He gestures toward the computer. "We got your back, Ross."

Ryan sighs, but there's affection in it. "I'm fine. You listen to Spencer too much."

"Spencer has never given me any reason to doubt him," Brendon says, but he grins and pulls Ryan into a hug.

Once they're gone, Ryan closes the door and throws the deadbolt and then just stands there for a minute, still facing the door, and takes a deep breath as though he's bracing himself. He turns back to Spencer and the air is a little heavy, tense with needing things to be normal and with the effort of pretending that they are.

"I'm fine," Ryan says.

"Okay."

"Really."

"I said 'okay.'"

"You don't believe me, though."

"Not really."

"Are you staying?"

Ryan knew the answer to that when he threw the deadbolt. Spencer just looks at him.

Ryan nods. "Right... You wanna smoke?"

"God, yes."

Ryan laughs softly and sits down on the couch, digging around in the box on the coffee table for the plastic bag of pot and the rolling papers. Spencer watches him and when Ryan beckons him over and hands him the joint and the lighter first, Spencer slides down on the couch next to him and takes them.

Spencer inhales slowly, holds his breath for as long as he can before passing the joint back to Ryan.

They sit in silence for about ten minutes before Ryan sits up straighter and turns to Spencer. "Okay then, do we need to... bond? Or something?"

"No," Spencer says.

"Isn't that why you're being all..." Ryan trails off, waves his hand absently, looks at Spencer like Spencer is the one whose behavior has been unreasonable.

"Oh, come on. You haven't answered your phone in weeks. I'm allowed to be concerned when you vanish."

"First of all, I actually responded to most of your text messages; I didn't 'vanish,' and second of all _space_, Spence. But I'm sorry you were worried."

Spencer shrugs.

Ryan leans sideways, knocking his shoulder into Spencer's and then just staying there, slumped against him, as he inhales again. He passes the joint back to Spencer, but catches his wrist as he takes it, fingers digging in for a moment, and Spencer feels the pressure even when Ryan pulls away.

Spencer leans away and fixes Ryan with a glare that he hopes indicates _don't fucking lie to me_ and says, "Why were you ignoring me?"

Ryan groans and tips his head back against the couch, rolling it to one side to look at Spencer, and then sighing and closing his eyes again when he sees the expression on Spencer's face.

"I wasn't _ignoring_ you."

"Fine. Avoiding me, then."

Ryan's quiet for a long time, and then " ... I may have been avoiding you. A little bit." Ryan sits up straighter and looks down, fidgeting with the hem of his t-shirt. Spencer takes a deep breath and waits. Ryan shifts uncomfortably. "Sometimes I just can't be called out." He looks at Spencer out of the corner of his eye.

"Okay..." Spencer says.

"I was an asshole. Not for avoiding you, or maybe for that too, I don't know, but I mean with Jake."

"So I gathered."

"See, that's what I mean. You don't even know what happened. Maybe he was an asshole too."

"Was he? With the acknowledgment that 'clingy' is not necessarily the same thing as 'asshole'."

Ryan says, "Okay. Like that. You do that tough love thing you do. Where you call me on my bullshit. And I knew you were gonna do it. And I just couldn't. Trust me, I'm aware of my bullshit."

Spencer sits back, a little stunned, "I didn't mean ..."

"I know. And avoiding you was probably also a dick move. I know how major this was and I know why you were worried. I'm just saying I do have a side, you know."

"I know you do," Spencer says, "and I'm on it."

"Yeah, you always are," Ryan says and rubs his hand over his face. "It's not that, it's ... never mind." He shakes his head. "I talked to Jake last night. After. You know."

Spencer's a little jarred by the subject change. "After he posted your lyrics on his blog?" he finishes, with disbelief.

Ryan shrugs. "After those pictures leaked? It's not like he could do more damage. Not with a semi-cryptic blog post, anyway."

Spencer wasn't expecting that. He had kind of figured that Ryan would go out of his way to avoid Jake for the rest of, oh, forever, to avoid awkward reminders. "How did that go?"

"Not great? But okay, I guess. We're not gonna be best friends and he still might hate me, but I think the more public aspects are dealt with. It's not like he was particularly thrilled about the pictures leaking either. It mostly comes down to ... I guess we were never really on the same page." Ryan pauses a minute and then sighs and says, "Don't say it." Spencer bites his tongue hard and does not say anything at all about how utterly _surprising_ and _shocking_ that is since Ryan is usually so _stellar_ at communication. Ryan elbows him in the ribs anyway.

"I just couldn't rehash it," Ryan says and takes another hit.

"I wasn't gonna push you," Spencer says, knowing as he says it that that's exactly what he's doing now.

"You wouldn't have had to," Ryan says, and he's right. They don't spell things out for each other, mostly because it isn't necessary. He sighs, "Sometimes it's just the fact that you know. Just stop looking at me all understanding."

Spencer blinks. "I don't think that I'm looking at you like I understand anything."

There's another silence; Ryan passes the joint back to Spencer and says, "Do you know he was completely unsurprised? Pissed, but unsurprised. I thought ...do I hurt people?"

Spencer pauses, weighing that, and then says, "You don't mean to."

"Okay. That was honest."

Spencer turns toward Ryan and puts a hand on his leg, scrambling for some kind of hold on this conversation, "I didn't mean it like that." He didn't, really. It's just that for someone as insightful as Ryan can be at times, he's very inward focused. He misses things and he's selfish in a way that's mostly instinct and residual self-preservation. Spencer's point was mostly that Ryan _isn't_ malicious.

Ryan says, "No, you did. And I asked, but would it kill you to sugar coat it a little bit every once in awhile?"

Spencer sighs, because he's never been good at that, not with anyone, but really not with Ryan. That's what other people do. Spencer's always been better at being what Ryan needs than he has been at being gentle with him, mostly because Ryan will hear him when he won't hear anybody else. Somebody has to be the voice of reason, and it's always kind of been up to him to pull them all through this kind of shit. Brendon's never known how; he still gets lost in his fear of losing them, even now. Jon sugar coats way too much. So Spencer's blunt with everyone and with Ryan especially because Ryan can take it from him, but the point isn't for it to hurt. He slides his arm around Ryan's shoulders and says, "I'm sorry about Jake and the misunderstanding." Ryan just looks at him skeptically like _nice try_, so Spencer tries to invest his voice with as much affection as he possibly can when he says, "And I'm sorry you're emotionally stunted."

Ryan groans and drops his head back onto the couch again. "It was just really inevitable. All along." he holds up one hand to forestall any response, "Which, yes, I know you knew, so please don't say that either."

"You know, I really am sorry about the _forced outing on the internet_. That's a mess, and I was worried about you for a reason. I wasn't judging you."

"Yeah, I know," Ryan says and he rolls his face against Spencer's shoulder so that his voice comes out muffled. In his left hand, the joint is still burning, a vibrant red spark against the darkness of the room as he leans forward slightly to stub it out in the ashtray. Spencer can feel the absence of Ryan's heat all along his side for a second, and when Ryan leans back he curls closer, still tucked underneath Spencer's arm.

Spencer says, "Tell me you're okay."

Ryan looks up at Spencer through his eyelashes. Spencer's chest goes warm and tight with affection and he thinks _oh_. He didn't know how close to the line they were, really didn't know they were in danger of tripping over it. He's comfortably stoned, just on the edge of it where his vision's gone pixelated and everything's slowing down and spooling out. Ryan's breath is warm against his skin. "Hey," Ryan says leaning even closer, "hey, I promise, I'm fine."

Spencer's not sure how they got so close together or how the shift in tone came so fast. Ryan's voice is low and warm and Spencer shudders in the darkness. They're pressed close together; Ryan's practically half in Spencer's lap, all awkward, sharp angles and edges that bruise and Spencer's not ready for this. They're not ready for this because there is no ready for this.

They know where the line is; they know how to not look directly at it and pretend it's not there; they know by instinct how to avoid crossing it. Ryan's a little more raw than usual; Spencer's concern has left him a little more open, startlingly aware, but really there's nothing special about tonight. So it should be bigger than this. It should be the result of something huge and staggering. It should at least have a catalyst, but he barely has time to think _fuck_ before Ryan's leaning up until they're breathing in each other's space and then they're kissing and it tastes like beer and pot smoke and it isn't the first time. Ryan was the first boy, the second person, Spencer ever kissed, when he was thirteen and they were fumbling and it meant nothing, at most alluding to questions they wouldn't think to ask until later. It was different, cautious and experimental. Ryan had laughed against Spencer's mouth, harsh with embarrassed bravado, and Spencer had closed his eyes, remembered it was just a game, and forced himself to breathe and keep his hands safely on Ryan's shoulders.

They're fumbling now too; it's sudden, sloppy and hot, but determined. There's no innocence or experimentation now, just Spencer's hand in Ryan's hair and Ryan's hand at Spencer's belt. Spencer manages to pull away, get his hand on Ryan's wrist to still him and force Ryan to meet his eyes. Ryan's eyes are too dark to read and Spencer doesn't remember a time when that was the case, doesn't remember the last time he looked at Ryan and didn't _know_, but he hasn't seen Ryan look like this before.

Ryan breathes out, "Spence" and bites his lower lip and Spencer thinks _really?_ and _why now?_ and _okay_ and leans forward, kissing Ryan again. It's weird and it's new, but it's not quite as weird or as new as it should be; he already knows what it feels like to have his arms around Ryan, already knows the smell of Ryan's skin.

He still can't turn his brain off enough to stop thinking Ryan's name like a chant. Ryan kisses him harder and lets go of Spencer's belt long enough to knot his hands in the collar of Spencer's shirt and then maneuver them so that he's straddling Spencer's lap. It's clear from this position that Ryan's hard against Spencer's leg; Spencer can feel it through two layers of their jeans; he's hard too, straining against his zipper and he's not even sure when that happened. He arches up against Ryan's hand when Ryan reaches between them to palm Spencer's cock. Spencer kisses along his throat, bites down just above Ryan's collarbone, sucking blood to the surface and Ryan _trembles_.

Ryan rolls his hips and then kisses Spencer again, stopping just long enough to tug Spencer's shirt off and then his own. It musses his hair and his pupils are huge. Spencer reaches up and catches Ryan behind the back of his neck, pulling their mouths together again. Ryan moans, and cups his hand around Spencer's jaw, tilting his head to get deeper as Spencer runs his other hand across Ryan's lower back. Ryan shivers and grinds even closer. Ryan licks inside Spencer's mouth, bites down on his bottom lip and then pulls away to slide down Spencer's body, until he's kneeling between Spencer's legs.

Spencer reaches for him, but Ryan shakes his head and shrugs him off, popping the button and Spencer's jeans and reaching in. Spencer shudders and leans back against the couch, and lets Ryan pull at his jeans and his underwear. Ryan's hand are on him and then Ryan's mouth, rhythmic and sloppy-hot and _fuck_ Ryan knows what he's doing. It's not surprising; Spencer would have guessed that; Ryan doesn't usually volunteer to do things he's _bad_ at, but knowing first hand (so to speak) is a different thing entirely. It takes all his willpower to try to stay still, but he can't help the tense roll of his hips. Ryan's making these _noises_, the wet staccato of a moan and Spencer's there before he's ready, scrambling to get his hand on Ryan's shoulder. He chokes out Ryan's name as a warning and tries to push him back, but Ryan shrugs him off, his hand moving in a tight rhythm along Spencer's shaft and Spencer gives up and comes (and comes apart) and Ryan sucks him through it, swallows around him. He looks almost delicate when he pulls back and wipes at his mouth.

"Ryan, _fuck_," Spencer breathes, shaky and drained. He slides down on the floor next to Ryan; it's awkward because his pants are still half on. When Ryan kisses him again, he can taste himself on Ryan's tongue. He's still just breathing through it, and he can barely respond beyond the light press of their lips together. Ryan breaks the kiss and pulls away, leaning back against the couch next to Spencer. Spencer opens his eyes when he feels the jerk of Ryan's arm as he works his own cock. He watches for a minute, the flush on Ryan's face, the slide of his hand; there are so many things he didn't know about Ryan before right now. How could he have thought he knew everything?

"Let me," Spencer says, reaching out to still Ryan's hand and then pushing it aside so he can wrap his own hand around Ryan's cock. He swipes his thumb over the head for lubrication and starts the steady, rhythmic strokes he uses on himself. Ryan's huge, which Spencer knew, it's been a source of jokes between them since Ryan hit puberty. It's not funny now, with the warm slide of Ryan's cock in his hand. Ryan gasps, just a short intake of breath, low and shuddery, and his eyes flutter closed. The angle's a little awkward, but it doesn't seem to matter; Ryan must have been close anyway, because it only takes a few pulls before Ryan's spilling over Spencer's hand.

Spencer pulls away to wipe his hand on his discarded t-shirt and Ryan turns toward him, leaning up against his side and burying his face against Spencer's shoulder, his breathing loose and shaky. Ryan as a post-coital cuddler is something else Spencer would never have expected.

Spencer feels really sober now, like the high is clearing with the orgasm haze. He rubs Ryan's shoulders and the back of his neck and tries to see beyond the surreality this moment. This is off the grid because it was never allowed to be on it.

Ryan finally sits up, rubs his hand across his face and smiles faintly. He looks a little in shock. Spencer feels a little in shock; he's focused on ignoring the nervous, tinny buzz in the back of his brain. "Hey," Ryan finally says, and kisses him. Spencer kisses back, and he can still taste himself.

Ryan pulls away and leans back against the couch, tipping his head back. The moonlight through the window cuts a stripe across his face. The skin of his neck and chest looks pale. Spencer watches the line of his throat; there's already a mark forming above his collar bone. Ryan always did bruise easily.

"What time is it?" Ryan asks without opening his eyes. His voice comes out soft and a little hoarse. Spencer fumbles for his phone in his jeans pocket.

"Just past three."

Ryan sighs and nods, pushing himself to his feet, pulling his pants back up. He looks too familiar, too normal, standing there half in shadow and looking at Spencer expectantly.

"Come on."

"What?"

"It's not really comfortable out here. Come on."

Spencer swallows hard, pushing himself up onto the couch, and says, "It's cool, I really should . . ."

Ryan rolls his eyes. Spencer can't really see that, but the _don't be an idiot_ comes through clearly in his voice. He says, "Come on. It's just me."

That's the problem right there, but Spencer just nods and when Ryan holds out his hand, he lets Ryan pull him to his feet. He pulls his underwear back on and follows Ryan into his bedroom. Ryan does have a guest room, but that would be weirder at this point. It would force this issue, draw more attention somehow.

Spencer slides under the covers. They sleep back to back and don't touch. It's something they've done a million times, but Spencer feels every inch of space between them.

***

Things feel a little more solid in the morning. Spencer wakes up first and slips out of bed without waking Ryan. He considers - seriously considers - just leaving, but that would only cement any weirdness and Spencer is convinced that the only way to handle this is to be as normal as possible. Ryan's been upset and agitated. If last night was triggered by stress or need or whatever, Spencer can deal with that. This is hardly the weirdest thing they've ever done with or for each other. In the spirit of avoiding awkwardness and making sure Ryan really is okay, which was the point to begin with, Spencer stays. He stays and does what he normally would, which is make coffee and eggs and bacon and it's not too long before the smell rouses Ryan, who stumbles in looking rumpled and tired, but a little less quiet and shaky and off than he did the night before.

Spencer tries not to notice (not that he can ever help it) and tries not to let it worry him.

Ryan's always falling in love. It happens easily and quickly and before he falls in love with the person (which he generally does, on some level, eventually), he falls in love with what they represent, and he never falls out again, not completely. Pete and escape and hero worship; Brendon and talent and charm. Jon and change and acceptance and finally evidence that Ryan could let go without turning into his fucking father. Jac was status and a certain sense of self-worth. Keltie, persistent and dynamic, was the first time Ryan really gave himself permission to be happy. The others since then, they meant things too.

And that's okay. Ryan loved all those people; the infatuation stage doesn't always last or turn into _in_ love, but he still does love most of them in one way or another.

It's just that it was Spencer before it was any of them, when he was the only thing that could be relied on not to crumble. It was Spencer first. That Ryan has been in love with him on and off since he was six years old is a given; it's a part of Spencer's background reality that he doesn't even think about most of the time because he doesn't have to. It's old; it's indisputable and completely unconditional and a really, really bad idea. Spencer is okay with being the best friend, but being the saving grace is easier in that role. Spencer won't be a symbol for Ryan, not on that level. He's not sure he _can_.

It's an exhausting thing, sometimes, being loved by Ryan Ross. It's even more exhausting when you love him back.

And Spencer always has.

***

Ryan posts:

"The guys and girls of Just Enough have been good friends of ours for awhile now. Any personal differences are just that - personal. There is no feud between Just Enough and Panic at the Disco. We respect them as musicians and while they won't be joining us on the new tour, but we do hope to tour with them in the future. "

Jake makes a blog post also refuting the feud, though conspicuously lacking any mention of future tours. Neither of them denies anything.

Spencer calls Ryan and says, "So... that was kind of an admission."

Ryan says, "Yeah. Oh well."

Spencer sighs. "But you're doing okay?"

Ryan's voice is lower and colder when he answers. "I said I was, didn't I?"

Spencer waits. There's too much silence. He says, "Mom's been calling me. I need to go to Vegas for a little while. Just for a couple of days before we really start tour prep. I haven't been back in forever." He's talking too fast and it's too much explanation. He doesn't have to account for himself to Ryan. He just does it out of a lifetime of habit.

His mom called a grand total of one time.

Ryan says, "Then go to Vegas."

"Ryan... "

"I'll try not to fall in a ditch, starve, or accidentally kill myself with a letter opener while you're gone."

"I didn't _say anything_." Privately Spencer thinks these are not completely unrealistic fears, but if he says that Ryan will probably hang up on him again.

Ryan says, "I know. I'm an asshole." He sounds more matter-of-fact than apologetic.

"I'll talk to you in a couple of days."

Ryan's voice warms a little when he says, "Say 'hi' to your mom for me."

Spencer hangs up feeling completely off-center. He knows why. He's not stupid. He can't quite pinpoint the moment that it went to hell but the point of no return was apparently somewhere between when Ryan kissed him and he kissed back without laughing it off and when he ended up with his dick in Ryan's mouth. They've been pretending everything's normal for the last couple of days (since they had sex, _holy fuck_), and Spencer already feels like he's cracking under the effort. He tells himself it could be normal. After most of their lives, it shouldn't matter. So now Spencer knows what Ryan looks like when he comes. So what? Spencer knows what Ryan looks like after he hasn't slept for three days because he's been up writing and drinking coffee and driving himself crazy. He knows what Ryan looks like in self-righteous rage and self-loathing guilt and tear-stained and breaking down. One stoned fumble is far from the most intimate they've ever been. They've defended each other and lied for each other and cleaned up each other's puke. They know all (most) of each other's secrets; they've seen all the ugly pieces. Spencer was there when Ryan's dad died and when Keltie threw her ring in his face. Ryan stayed on the phone with Spencer from midnight until dawn when Haley decided she couldn't do the distance and the time apart anymore and packed her bags and left in the middle of the night.

After all their years of history this could be such a small part of that history; it doesn't _have_ to change anything.

Spencer wishes he wasn't so aware that he's lying to himself.

***

Spencer goes to Vegas. His mom cooks for him. He cooks for his family because he still really likes doing that. He torments his sisters but lets them show him off to the friends they keep bringing over, even though they won't admit that's what they're doing.

No one notices anything is wrong, because Spencer is stealthy like that.

He goes out to dinner with Haley and her new boyfriend - who isn't that new anymore, who Spencer can finally admit that he kind of likes - and thinks about how far they've come since the night she walked out in tears. Haley asks about the guys and about the new album. She touches Spencer a lot and smiles with concern in her eyes because she is who she is and he's not _that_ stealthy. She tells him about law school (she's doing fantastically, of course) and her Labrador puppy (which is admittedly exceptionally cute, but it _is_ a puppy. What else is it going to be?) She holds hands with Kevin under the table; they look at each other and shine.

Spencer still aches, a little, deep down, with the lingering echo of first love. It's not that he misses her so much anymore as that he misses having someone like that, misses how uncomplicated it was when they were good. He's jealous in a faded and nostalgic kind of way, less of Kevin and more of the two of them together, how easily Haley drops her hand onto Kevin's leg or Kevin runs his hand through Haley's hair. How simple it can be when someone knows you inside out.

Spencer goes back to his parents' house and sits in his childhood bedroom. He's taken most of the stuff that matters out of it by this point and the furniture's not the same anymore. This isn't actually the bed Spencer and Ryan curled up in on those nights when Ryan would show up late, shaking and angry, and Spencer's mom would let him in without a word. Still, there are too many memories bouncing around in his head. He thinks about Ryan _needing_ so much it was contagious and encompassing, how Ryan's always been able to believe enough to make things happen in a way that shouldn't work but does - and he thinks about the responsibility and practicalities that fell to him when Ryan's faith and need weren't quite enough. Ryan hates himself sometimes; he doubts himself when that happens and in the beginning, before Brendon and Jon, before Pete and real hope for escape, Spencer was the only real line of defense. It took a lot of faith to get them where they are, and a lot of that was Ryan's, but it took a lot of determination too, a lot of attention to practical realities Ryan never thought of, a willingness to face the prospect of failure when Ryan wouldn't even acknowledge it. It just took a lot.

He thinks about being sixteen and emphatically does not call Ryan.

***

Spencer gets back to LA the day after Jon was supposed to fly in. Getting Jon to move to LA is a losing battle because of the horrified look Cassie gets in her eyes at the prospect of leaving Chicago. Spencer doesn't blame her, really. Spencer lives in LA mostly because Brendon and Ryan do, because after Haley broke up with him he went to visit Ryan and just sort of never went back. He likes it fine, most of the time, but it is overwhelming, all bright and hot and fake. One time he said that to Ryan and Ryan stared at him and then laughed and said _we're from Vegas for fuck's sake_, but Vegas has an openly over-the-top fakery, one without any pretense of reality. LA is a game and Spencer's still not totally sure he completely gets the rules.

The others like it, though. Brendon's having fun; he likes the people and the constant action. Ryan likes the game. He likes what LA stands for, what it means to feel like you belong there.

But Ryan makes a lot of decisions based on symbolism.

Spencer calls Jon as soon as he gets home. Jon says "Hey! We're at Brendon's! Come over!" He sounds really stoned.

Shane answers the door without his shirt on. He doesn't have any visible hickeys. Spencer's first thought is that he's surprised, and his second is that he knows way, way too much about Brendon and Shane's sex life. The smell of pot wafts through the door way.

Shane says, "You should probably come in and smoke something and maybe try to get Jon and Ryan to talk about something other than the Horsehead Nebula."

"Do I even want to know?"

"Maybe? I don't really get it, so I have no idea."

Spencer follows Shane in. Brendon's slumped on the couch picking at his guitar and Ryan and Jon are sprawled out on the floor. Ryan's staring up at the ceiling and gesticulating wildly with the hand holding the joint. He rolls his head to one side and smiles easily when he sees Spencer, beckoning him over. Spencer was expecting hesitation; they haven't spoken since he left. Neither of them has even tried, and it's almost weirder that it doesn't feel more forced.

Brendon sits up on the couch and says, "Hey, Spence!" grinning lazily. Jon waves from the floor.

"Spence, I'm thinking space," Ryan says.

"We're showcasing the music, Ryan," Jon says and pokes him in the shoulder. His voice implies that this is not the first time they've had this conversation. "We don't want people thinking 'futuristic.' "

Spencer sits down on the floor with his back to the couch and Ryan pushes himself up into a sitting position next to Spencer, handing over the joint. They do sit a little farther apart than they normally would, but it's nothing anyone else would notice.

Ryan toes Jon in the ribs. "Focused on the music, yes, I don't mean like light shows or anything, just, you know . . ."

"Space," Jon says, "like just on the screen, like montage?"

"No," Ryan says, "not like regular space either, where it's all dark, and no glowstick shit either, but like, Van Gogh space, where it's all...orange."

Spencer takes another hit. He does not blame the pot for this conversation because, well, Nothing Rhymes with Circus.

Spencer looks at Ryan. "Nothing at all metallic on the costuming."

"We don't wear costumes anymore," Ryan says, which is _such a lie_. There will be themed clothing of some kind because there _always is_ and given both Ryan's control issues and his sartorial history, it never hurts to be overly cautious.

"Space," Ryan says, knocking his knee into Spencer's.

"Like space-space? Or like _Starry Night_ space? Because that's not space so much as trippy modern art." Spencer says. Ryan purses his lips, thinking about the music probably, which sounds a little more folk-rock this time around, though the few songs Brendon wrote completely on his own still sound a little bit like showtunes.

The critics keep calling them "eclectic," or at least the ones who like them do. The others use less flattering words - like "schizophrenic" - but maybe "eclectic" is the appropriate term for their music given the way they have to rework all the old material every time they release a new album.

"Isn't all modern art trippy?" Brendon asks, shoving his guitar off his lap and leaning over Jon's shoulder to take the joint.

Jon sits up straight, points at Ryan and says, "No. No. I got it. Pirates!"

Ryan's says sarcastically, "Jon, we're showcasing the music," but it's fairly clear from the way he's smiling that he likes the idea.

Spencer's doesn't know how they got there from Van Gogh; there wasn't actually any logical transition but then, sometimes Ryan and Jon are hard to follow when you're not as high as they are. Sometimes they're hard to follow when you are as high as they are. He sighs and says, "Okay, Jon. Explain pirates."

***

Spencer follows Ryan out to his car afterwards. They're parked close to each other. It's more awkward now that it's just the two of them. Spencer walks a half-step behind and tries to think of something to say and tries not to be completely terrified that he can't.

"Jon's staying with Brendon?" he ventures. It's weird. Jon always stays with Ryan.

Ryan shrugs. "Apparently Brendon told him I'm being difficult right now and that it would be best to leave me alone."

Spencer opens his mouth to agree with Brendon, and shuts it again when Ryan turns to him and gives him the _don't say it_ glare.

After a minute he says it anyway, but he phrases it as a question. "Is that true?"

Ryan shrugs, "It may have been at the time. Whatever." He pauses just a little too long, and then turns to Spencer and smiles, "How was Vegas?"

They stand for a minute and talk about casual things- about Spencer's family and about how cool it really will be to tour with The Cab again and about how to convince Cassie that LA is awesome so that they can have Jon around all the time and about how Ryan only fell down one flight of stairs this week and didn't do anything else unintentionally self-destructive. (Of course, he was babysitting Bronx at the time. Spencer will never understand Pete and Ashlee's willingness to leave Ryan alone with their child). Ryan gets a little indignant when Spencer starts laughing and they have these moments of normal again, where it's just them.

They don't talk about Jake and how it probably would have been cool to tour with Just Enough too, and they don't talk about how easy it was to cross a line they've held in place for most of their lives. Nobody's said "mistake" yet, because nobody's said anything, but the tense edge of it became apparent the second they were alone.

Ryan looks down, gestures awkwardly toward his car. Spencer smiles in a way that he hopes is normal and nonchalant. He should touch Ryan's shoulder, do _something_ so that there's some kind of easy and reassuring physical contact, but he doesn't really trust himself to touch and the thought makes his breath catch. He feels stupidly like a teenager, like he's sixteen and doesn't know what to do with hands. Ryan turns toward him and closes the distance, reaches out for Spencer's arm and says, "Spence, hey."

Spencer allows himself to be tugged closer. Ryan's holding too tight onto both of Spencer's arms and they're not quite hugging, but they would be if Spencer would give in. He sighs and reaches up, one hand on each of Ryan's shoulders. Ryan pulls Spencer closer, and Spencer tips his head down so that their foreheads are pressed together.

"_What_, Ryan?" Spencer breathes, and he means _what is this?_ and _what do you want?_ and mostly _what do we do now?_

Ryan says, "Nothing. I just . . ."

Spencer says, "I don't think we . . ." and then Ryan breathes out and Spencer feels the warmth of his breath, still smells the pot smoke, before Ryan tips his head up and they're kissing. It's just the light press of their lips together; Ryan licks into Spencer's mouth, hesitant and questioning. They're only touching where Ryan's gripping the backs of Spencer's biceps and where Spencer's digging his fingers into Ryan's shoulders. It's softer than it was the other night; there's no haziness, there's no urgency, and there's no excuse.

Spencer pulls back, absently stroking his thumb against Ryan's collar bone, just under his shirt. Ryan visibly shivers and Spencer drops his hand like he's been shocked. Ryan starts and backs away; he fixes his eyes on some spot just over Spencer's shoulder. Spencer swallows.

"We can't," Spencer says. "You're not in a good place right now . . ." he trails off and doesn't say _if you were, you would know better_. "This isn't us."

"What is it then?" Ryan asks. His face has gone blank. Spencer flinches.

He says, "Hey, you know we shouldn't." That really is the thing, though; they _shouldn't_. It's terrifying, what it might cost.

Ryan turns away and when he turns back his smile is too rigid and his expression is still shuttered, but at least he's meeting Spencer's eyes; "You're right. We shouldn't. One time thing, right? We were fucked up."

Spencer feels the lie in his gut, mostly because Ryan's not even trying to mean it. They're more or less sober now, and they weren't even that stoned then. Even if Ryan was reaching for him out of convenience and vulnerability, because he finally hit the line where it was easier to do it than to not, Ryan does want it and Spencer wants it and they just agreed to lie to each other until they can believe it. It's a big lie, for people who are used to telling each other the truth, or who are used to not having to tell each other truth because they don't _have_ to tell each other anything, they see so clearly through the other's posturing. Even if they're in collusion, it's a big lie.

Spencer says, "Ryan," and reaches for him again. Ryan lets himself be tugged toward Spencer and hugs back when Spencer hugs him, but he doesn't quite relax into it and when he pulls back he turns away completely.

Spencer stands by his car just trying to collect himself after Ryan leaves. He wonders what would happen if they gave in, if a life-long friendship could survive it. They had to call it a mistake before it actually became one.

***

It's not normal after that. It's not normal and it's not really okay, but nobody else really notices.

 

***

Plans for the There Are Pirates! tour go quickly and, as an added bonus, the stage show does not end up involving trippy modern art. (If the band ever breaks up, Spencer's going to write a tell-all book and dedicate it to the fans. He's going to call it "If You Thought That Was Bad, You Should Have Seen the Stuff I Vetoed.")

Jon's pirate explanation was actually pretty compelling. Admittedly it started with "Pirates are really cool," but it ended with "We could totally incorporate the idea of internet piracy. It's like wink wink nudge nudge to the fans, you know?"

"You just like pirates," Spencer said.

"I like pirates," Brendon said.

Ryan didn't say much, but his eyes went kind of wide and bright at the thought of the potential costuming.

In the end, the theme mostly manifests itself in the merch because, okay, Spencer has to hand it to Jon that the digital piracy take on it really was pretty clever. There aren't many stage show theatrics in the works and there's less costuming than Spencer would have anticipated, though Brendon has insisted on eyepatches (both to wear on stage and to sell at the merch booth). Mostly the stage show is going to be really, really shiny. They probably don't need quite that much glitter, but they are Panic at the Disco.

The four of them are always together during the planning stages. Jon moves to Ryan's house before too long, claiming that any one can person can only be expected to endure so much of the Urie-Valdez Den of Iniquity, so then Jon is always with Ryan. It's easy, really, to fake normal in front of the others. Spencer and Ryan laugh at their inside jokes and finish each other's sentences because they can still read each other's minds. Maybe they don't touch like they usually do and maybe they haven't actually been alone together since that night by the car, but that could be attributed to any number of things. They're really busy with the planning and the rehearsals. Everyone's exhausted; there's no time. Overall, the group dynamic isn't noticeably altered.

It would be easy if he didn't know better, if he didn't miss Ryan even when Ryan was right there in the room.

 

***

The Cab and Hey Monday show up in LA right before the tour starts and immediately join forces with Cassadee as the uncontested ring leader. It seems like an old dynamic, probably one that was established way back on one of the many tours Hey Monday and The Cab have done together. It seems very set. And a little dangerous.

They have a pre-tour party at Ryan's. Almost everyone is gathered in the backyard, when Cassadee corners Ryan in the kitchen. Brendon, Shane and Spencer are there too, trying to figure out what, exactly, Ryan has that might pass as party food (because they're already out of what Spencer brought and Ryan's lack of planning skills remain legendary), but she doesn't seem that interested in anybody else.

Cassadee sits down at the table and crosses her fingers, leaning her chin on her joined hands. Her hair falls strategically over one eye. Her black nail polish is chipped and her eye makeup is dark and sparkly. As always, she's really adorable. Spencer suspects that she isn't actually going for 'adorable' at right this moment, but she doesn't really seem to be able to help it.

Spencer says, "Hi, Cassadee."

"Hey, Spence!" She says cheerily, but then she looks at Ryan and sighs. "Kate says you broke her brother."

Ryan sighs, "Yeah about that . . ."

Cassadee shrugs, "Whatever, your deal. He didn't even seem that broken when I saw them. I'm just saying I could have had Kate and Lindy and instead," she gestures over her shoulder, "we have the Cash and Alex Band."

"You love us!" Cash says, appearing in the doorway.

Cassadee rolls her eyes and calls over her shoulder, "Of course I do." She turns back to the others, "I was going to have other girls with me on this tour, that's my only point."

"And instead, the Cash and Alex Band?" Spencer hazards.

Cassadee says, "You should know that whatever happens on this tour you really did bring it on yourselves."

"Okay," Cash says, "you've made your point. You like Kate better than me. I get it. Come on."

She shrugs. "Yeah, okay. I'm coming, keep your pants on. For now."

"Whatever," Brendon says, "that's not a threat. Like we've never seen Cash naked."

Cash leans through the doorway to flip him off and Shane punches Brendon in the arm and says ,"Most of us haven't."

Spencer says, "Actually, most of us have."

Shane says, "That was a euphemism."

Brendon looks at Cassadee speculatively and says in an audible whisper to Shane, "You think?"

Cassadee wrinkles her nose at him, but she's blushing a little when she gets up to follow Cash out of the room. Spencer calls after her, "We have toured with Fall Out Boy, Cobra Starship and The Academy Is . . . _and_ both of your bands before. You aren't scary. You have _nothing_ on Greta Salpeter!" She really doesn't. Greta's scary. But right now Spencer would gladly take the combined prank war efforts of The Cab, Hey Monday _and_ The Hush Sound over the drama that the presence of Just Enough would have caused.

***

For the most part, Cassadee's threat is an idle one (that was possibly just made to bait Cash in the first place) and the beginning of the tour goes smoothly. Sure, Hey Monday and The Cab get drunk and loud a lot, and all members of both bands seem bizarrely willing to go along with whatever Cassadee thinks is a good idea, though things Cassadee thinks are good ideas are not, in point of fact, always good ideas. This results in at least one streaking incident (due to an unfortunate game of truth or dare), weeks of non-stop water gun battles (that regularly have collateral damage and are more likely to involve things like grape juice or bad tequila than water) and a large number of shows played on no sleep and a lot of intoxicants, but she doesn't use her powers for evil, just for mischief.

Occasionally she may comment on stage about how much it sucks that Kate Scott and Lindy Montez aren't there because really you wouldn't _believe_ the kind of shit she has to put up with instead. (That's not even true. Cassadee is close to Kate, yes, but upon further observation, if she's not sleeping with Cash, Spencer will eat Ryan's sparkly fedora, he's not even kidding). But she never really does more than casually mention Just Enough's absence. She never even alludes to why they're absent because she's not actually that obnoxious.

Of course, the entire audience knows what she's talking about anyway because they're creepy internet stalkers, but at least the tour is drama free. Relatively drama free. Drama free except for Ryan and Spencer's delicate negotiation, their constant forced normalcy, their efforts and failures to keep it the fuck together.

They have two buses this time out. Jon and Ryan are sharing a bus, and Spencer and Brendon are on the other one, which makes it a little easier. Shane's there too, filming another live DVD. Sharing a bus with Brendon and Shane isn't always ideal (Brendon and Shane have enough tact to behave themselves on the bus – at least when Spencer's there - but they really do have something of a PDA problem), but it keeps Spencer and Ryan from being under each other's feet all the time.

What the tour is, however, is the gayest thing since Nothing Rhymes with Circus. It's possibly even gayer than Circus, actually, because that was so tightly scripted and this is more like a non-stop, unplanned escalation of stage gay. It doesn't matter to Brendon anymore, if it ever really did; he's still a little extravagant in his quest to be out-and-proud, like he can't quite believe it went as smoothly as it did or that his family, after everything, took it as well as they did. He's been playing it up on stage ever since he figured out that Ryan was willing to go with it – and Ryan, with his intense need to take control of the way he's perceived, hasn't backed down or backed away yet.

They play "Lying;" the lights go down and Ryan plays to Brendon on his knees, his face visible in profile, shadowed by the pin-striped fedora. Brendon, skintight black jeans, the red slash of the belt across his waist, vest with _fucking sequins_, reaches down and cups one hand along the side of Ryan's face. The noise doubles and a wave of energy rolls off the crowd and when Brendon spins away, back to the audience or to stalk Jon across the stage, Ryan climbs to feet and crosses the stage to play to Spencer. Spencer focuses on drowning himself in beats and rhythm, playing in the trance he can reach sometimes, on his best nights, and not meeting Ryan's eyes.

They play "A Little Sincerity (A Dangerous Thing)" off the new album and Brendon slinks over to share Ryan's microphone. He slips his arm around Ryan's waist and tips his forehead against Ryan's temple. They sing at each other and the crowd screams.

They play "That Green Gentleman" and Brendon spends the entire time bouncing across the stage. Ryan – always – watches Spencer through the entire song.

And that's not even counting all the real gay offstage. Admittedly, most of the real gay comes from Brendon and Shane, who _don't fucking stop_ \- or stop fucking - ever, apparently, but Ryan's taken to flirting heavily (at the very least) with boys more than girls, which used to happen only rarely. Either he just doesn't care anymore or he's making a point. He smiles at them in bars and watches Spencer over their shoulders. Spencer suspects he's making a point.

Spencer hates every second of it; he didn't quite realize until all this the degree to which Ryan was his constant and his solid ground. Everything's unstable and spinning and he can't seem to regain his balance or catch his breath. Spencer and Ryan have been too many things to each other for too many years, but Spencer's always kept something back, because he has to, because it's self-preservation. It's not that wanting Ryan like that is deeper than what their friendship's been before; it's not like it's even all that new, but it's something more, it's one more piece and Ryan has so many pieces already. There was so much _need_ between them for so long. With something like that, there are parts of yourself you can't give, not even if you want to.

***

They're all hanging out on Ryan and Jon's bus playing video games. Or, everybody but Ryan is playing video games. Ryan's texting furiously in the corner, when he gets up without a word and heads to the bunks. Jon pauses the game and motions for Spencer to follow Ryan. Jon knows something's going on. Ryan and Spencer are still faking normal as best they can, but Jon and Ryan spend a lot of time together (especially now that Ryan and Spencer don't) and Jon's easy to talk to. It's because he always _means well_. (Spencer hasn't said anything to Brendon and Shane, but that's mostly because he doesn't know what to say. He doesn't really want to talk about it and neither of them quite has Jon's ability to make you spill your secrets before you even know you're talking). Jon means well now too, but he doesn't get it, and nothing Spencer and Ryan are going to say in the bunks with the others a few feet away is going to fix anything. Spencer goes anyway.

He knocks and leans through the doorway. "What's up?"

Ryan rolls his eyes and nods at his phone. "Nothing. Gabe being a dick. So. Nothing."

Spencer sits down on the bunk opposite Ryan and holds out his hand for the phone, but Ryan pockets it.

"It's nothing, seriously. Embarrassing questions about my sex life and Jake's sexual prowess. Way more information than I ever wanted about Jake's new girlfriend. Links to speculation about me and Brendon," he emphasizes Brendon's name, and his voice is tight with irony. He pulls his phone out again and Spencer watches the nervous tapping of his fingers on the keys. Ryan says, "It's Gabe; he's not really doing it on purpose, he just has no shame and he thinks he's funny. I can ignore him, see?" Ryan pushes the phone away.

Except for Cassadee bemoaning Kate's absence from time to time, the Jake thing doesn't come up a lot. Ryan evades it if a question alludes to it in an interview and no one has asked point-blank what their relationship was. It seems to have settled down as far as the media is concerned. The fan sites still care, but those are the fan sites so that's to be expected.

"Jake has a new girlfriend?"

"Apparently? We're still not exactly on great terms."

Spencer asks, "Does that bother you?" and Ryan looks at him in disbelief.

"The girlfriend or not being on great terms?"

Spencer meant the girlfriend. He says, "Either one."

Ryan shrugs. "I don't _love_ the fact he's still mad at me, but it is what it is. And no. His girlfriend doesn't bother me."

Spencer says, "It's just that to hear Cassadee talk, Kate's not over the urge to burn you in effigy."

"Kate and Jake are close. How would you feel if it was the other way around?"

When Spencer doesn't reply right away, Ryan sighs. "Or is it that you don't know because that's never happened because it's always my fault?" There's a lot of self-deprecation in his voice, and he sounds kind of pissed at himself, but there's a lot of challenge there too. He's not _only_ pissed at himself.

Spencer gapes at him, and then takes a deep breath. He's a little pissed off too, actually. It's more at the situation than at Ryan, but Ryan being a passive-aggressive ass doesn't really help.

"Fuck, I didn't _say_ that, Ryan." Mostly he'd been thinking that Ryan had a point because yeah, Spencer holds grudges on Ryan's behalf, sometimes to irrational extremes. He's still a little pissed at Jake (and Kate, and hell, maybe Lindy and Steve, just by association and they didn't really even do anything). And yeah, okay, it's usually Ryan's fault, but that's a self-sabotaging defense mechanism. Spencer knows that. Normally, he would have just said it and Ryan, depending on how petulant he was actually feeling, would have rolled his eyes or flipped Spencer off or punched Spencer in the shoulder. And then they would have been fine.

Spencer suspects that saying it right now wouldn't be helpful at all.

Ryan says, "I know, I'm sorry," He's picked up his phone again, and he's looking down at it, fiddling with the buttons. He doesn't sound particularly sorry, and fuck, they've _got_ to fix this.

"I wasn't even thinking it," Spencer says. "I was thinking that you were right." Ryan nods and types something out on the keypad.

Spencer reaches out and puts one hand on Ryan's knee, "No, look at me." Ryan does. "It's not always your fault. Sometimes things just are." Ryan swallows and nods again, pulls away and looks at his phone again.

"Well, maybe she will lighten up some now," Ryan says.

Spencer doesn't really want to let Ryan change the subject, but he's not really sure how to stay on it, doesn't know what to say, or how to say _it's not like you think_ when, for the first time in most of their lives, he's not sure _what_ Ryan thinks. He sits back. "It takes some of the pressure off, probably, Jake dating a girl."

"What do you mean?"

"Just that people are less likely to ask now."

Ryan looks up sharply, startled. "That doesn't matter. You know I don't care about that, right? I mean, that's not even... Obviously what happened kind of sucked, but it's done. It's kind of a relief. Brendon's press release strategy is too much for me, but it's not like I'll lie about it if anyone asks."

Spencer knew that, on some level. He knew that this clearly wasn't bothering Ryan as much as it would have once, but Ryan's looking at him with bewildered indignation like he can't believe Spencer would even think that might be a problem and Spencer is torn between pointing out precedent and apologizing.

Ryan looks down again. "Maybe it'll end up being relevant and maybe it won't. I'm just gonna live my life, Spence. It's already all out there anyway, isn't it?" His voice is quiet, but it's still challenging, and Spencer's pretty sure that they're not talking about Jake anymore.

***

They hit Chicago at the beginning of June. They've got two shows there and they're picking up Cassie, who's joining them for the rest of the tour.

Jon goes to pick her up. She walks onto Ryan and Jon's bus where they're all hanging out, takes in the mess, raises one eyebrow (she's the only person Spencer's ever known who can do that as effectively as he can) and says, "Why do I always do this to myself?" Jon walks in behind her, wraps his arms around her waist and buries his face in her hair.

Everybody loves Cassie, but there was awhile where Spencer was wary of her. She was close to Haley (still is, actually) and, to a slightly lesser extent, to Keltie. She tried to hide the fact that she was uncomfortable around Spencer and Ryan following the respective break-ups, but she never hid it _well_ and mostly ended up being conspicuously absent for awhile, which had caused some tension to the degree that Jon ever allows tension to interfere with his life. Mostly this consisted of occasionally observing that his girlfriend thought his best friends were assholes. It had taken her awhile to warm to Spencer again and even longer to be normal with Ryan, but things are okay now, for the most part. Sometimes she'll bring up something they all did together and then flinch, looking self-conscious and uncomfortable, even though no one else is really bothered by it anymore, but for the most part it's fine. When Spencer comes over to say 'hi' she winks at him and squeezes his arm, since she can't quite pull herself away from Jon long enough to hug anybody else.

Brendon says, "You just can't stay away from us. We know." He grins.

Cassie rolls her eyes and finally disentangles herself from Jon. She drops down on the couch beside Brendon, throwing her arm around his shoulders and sighing. "No, you know it's not that. I don't actually like you guys very much. It's just that hanging out on tour with Panic at the Disco all summer gives me a lot of cred with my sixth graders." Brendon scoffs in mock indignation and Cassie pats his shoulder consolingly.

Her ring catches the light. Everybody must spot it at once because the room goes silent. Spencer says, "Fuck,_ Jon_, since when?" Spencer looks at Ryan, trying to silently ask _did you know about this?_ Ryan shrugs and shakes his head.

Jon turns bright red, but he's beaming. He shrugs. "About half an hour?"

Cassie's blushing too. She puts her hands over her face but her left hand over her mouth (fingers spread strategically to show the ring to optimum advantage) can't hide the fact that she's grinning as widely as Jon is.

Jon looks at her, soft and open, and says, "I was going to wait and talk to the guys about doing it on stage later on. But it's been in my pocket for over a month and then I saw you and it was just time.'" Cassie makes a faint cooing noise, high pitched with affection, and sinks down further onto the couch, shoulders shaking with happy laughter.

There's another moment of stunned silence, and then everyone's talking at once. Spencer squeezes Jon's shoulder and Ryan pulls him into a half-hug and says, "Hey, man, congratulations." Brendon and Shane take turns hugging Cassie. Cassie and Jon eventually manage to extricate themselves and Jon wraps his arms around her again, kissing her temple. She buries her face against his shoulder.

***

Two shows in Chicago means a hotel night, means an actual bed and being in a room by himself for the first time in what feels like months. (Jon offers his house, of course he does, but they don't take him up on it. He doesn't really have that much space and tonight of all nights, he and Cassie need to be alone). It hasn't quite been months, of course, but Spencer's drained and exhausted. All his walls are down. Ryan's no better. It's clear he's not sleeping; Spencer can see that in how jittery he is and in the shadows underneath his eyes. Even so he might be faking it more convincingly than Spencer is at this point. Spencer's not introverted the way Ryan is; it takes a lot longer for Spencer to reach his limit, but once he does his fault lines are more visible. Ryan just shuts down when he has to, retreats behind his notebook, still willing to play the tortured artist. Ryan's best defenses are still silence and walls and disdain. Spencer's best defenses are distractions, the emotional sleight of hand of quickness and sarcasm; it's so much more obvious when he stumbles and falters.

Of course, however much Spencer might be looking forward to time alone, they do have a show first and also a newly engaged Jon and Cassie means extensive celebrating is necessary before anyone even thinks about sleeping.

Ryan surprises Jon by calling Cassie up on stage that night before they play "Northern Downpour" and dedicating it to them. Cassie cries. Jon cries too and can barely play through it. Spencer watches Ryan for any hint of pain. Jon and Ryan wrote that song together to begin with and they've never stopped playing it; the band has played it every tour (they don't play "When the Day Met the Night" anymore at all), but everybody knew that, for Ryan, it was always about Keltie. When it's over, Ryan catches Spencer looking and cocks his head questioningly at what is probably a concerned expression on Spencer's face. Ryan looks okay. Spencer smiles and shakes his head and Ryan smiles back. They're okay in moments like that, when it's just them and they're not pushing or trying to filter anything through words.

The Academy Is. . . is also on tour and Fall Out Boy as a whole is mostly in LA these days, but celebrating in Chicago still means a huge chunk of the Chicago scene, mostly headed by Tom Conrad and his new girlfriend who spend most of the night doing their best to get Jon, Cassie and everyone else around them pass out drunk. It works best on Jon and Cassie, who seem fairly willing to drink anything anyone hands them, but no one else is that far behind. It's a good party. Jon's half lying on the bar and Cassie's only managing to sit upright because she's leaning against Jon. Hey Monday and The Cab cleared a corner table and are playing an elaborate game of beer pong, except they're missing Cash and Cassadee who have been making out in the corner for about an hour. Tom has a whispered conversation with the bartender, and then the bartender starts passing out glasses full of some kind of drink that looks bright blue and dangerous.

Tom calls everyone to the bar for one more celebratory shot. Spencer's pretty sure he just wants everybody to drink the blue thing. Spencer thinks he could probably handle one more celebratory shot, but that would involve getting up and going all the way over there, and really he's just fine where he is. He's done a lot of celebratory shots tonight; he'll do another one but only if it comes to him, and maybe not until the world around him gets less sluggish and muted because that would probably make walking easier. Maybe. He's kind of vaguely aware that he's well on his way to completely wasted, and that probably most of the alcohol he's had hasn't actually hit him yet, but he's still on the pleasant side of it, relaxed and easy.

Two shot glasses clink onto the table in front of him, followed by two beer bottles and he starts as Ryan drops into the chair opposite him. Spencer reaches for the shot Ryan nudges toward him. Ryan says, "They sent me over with this."

Spencer says, "To Jon and Cassie," and they toast. The vodka goes down smoothly, and either it's really good vodka or he's just too drunk to notice or care about the burn.

Spencer reaches for one of the beers. They sit in silence for a moment. Ryan's looking down at the other bottle, carefully peeling the label off of it, delicately focused on getting it off in one piece.

"Hi," Spencer says.

Ryan starts and tears the label. He looks up at Spencer and his face is flushed, eyes too bright with drunken sheen. He says, "I'm drunk."

Spencer laughs. "Yeah, me too." He clicks the necks of the bottles together and takes a swig. It's good, darker than he's used to, not like the crap they still keep on the buses. He idly wonders why they still keep crap on the buses; they are definitely rich and famous enough not to have to skimp on the beer.

Ryan sighs and takes a drink, keeping his eyes on Spencer. They're alone in the corner; the lights are dimmer and it's quiet. Spencer was over here to begin with _because_ it was quieter; he'd been talking to Ryan Luciani about the drums on Empires' new stuff, but Luciani is long gone, dragged off somewhere by Van Vleet, and it's a little too quiet now that Ryan's here, like the noise from the rest of the room is dampened. Over Ryan's shoulder, Spencer watches the others in the lights by the bar; their laughter seems a little distant. Ryan sighs again, audibly, opens his mouth, then closes it, like he's deciding, second guessing himself. He bites his lip and lets go of the beer bottle, reaching out to touch Spencer's wrist. It's not a grab, just gentle pressure, and Spencer realizes he was drumming his fingers against the table in an uneasy cadence, the rhythm for "A Little Sincerity." He laughs under his breath, more in discomfort than humor, but he lets Ryan still the motion.

"I wasn't going to do it like this," Ryan says.

Spencer sits up straighter in his chair, "What?"

"I had it in my head, you know? Planned out, what I needed to say, how I needed to say it, what would maybe make you listen to me. But I overthink things; sometimes I overthink things even more than you overthink things, and" he gestures sharply at Spencer, "you overthink things a lot, Spence. When I try not to, it all just kind of completely comes unstuck, so I do, but..." Ryan makes another aborted, frustrated gesture. "Look, it doesn't... I just thought fuck it, do it now while I don't care, while it's easy, freak out tomorrow."

Spencer's still sober enough to for his heart to pound with the knowledge of what's coming, though he's drunk enough for it to be dulled. He wishes Ryan had chosen any other moment, one when he could think through the fog in his brain, though it wouldn't have worked at another moment, which is what Ryan is saying. Still, it's not fair, that Ryan has a script in his head for this.

Ryan looks right at him and says, "You know what I want." He gestures between them. "_This_ is going to be dealt with eventually. I get that you don't want to, and I know what you said, but I can't do this, not with you." He pauses and looks down, and then says softly, forcing Spencer to lean forward to hear him, "What are you so afraid of? I just need you to tell me that."

Spencer just blinks at him because Ryan _is_ drunk. He wouldn't say most of that out loud if he was sober, not without being damn sure of the response he was going to get. That much honesty and vulnerability laid on the table so explicitly in one breath hasn't happened at least since Keltie. Maybe not even then.

"You're drunk," Spencer says.

Ryan laughs. It's edged and a little hostile. "Yeah, I really am, and we can't do this, I know. You said that, I remember. You're afraid we'll have some disastrous, epic falling out and ruin everything."

"I didn't mean..." Spencer starts to say, but Ryan interrupts again. He slides over into the chair next to Spencer, so he can lean over and in and breath right in Spencer's ear. Spencer shivers. Ryan sways a little bit, leans into Spencer, and on instinct Spencer puts a hand on Ryan's shoulder to steady him.

"You think I could do something you wouldn't forgive me for? What would that be, exactly?"

And yeah. There it is. There's nothing, of course. It's true and it's _mean_ and it's frightening. If they did this, sure Ryan could do something that would make Spencer stop fucking him, but something that would end _them_? After everything they've been to each other? No, Spencer can't really imagine it. It's too much, how all-encompassing this could be.

He doesn't say that. He says, "And there's nothing you wouldn't forgive me, I guess."

Ryan says, without hesitation, "No." He curves his fingers around Spencer's arm, digs them in until Spencer looks at him. "Nothing, Spence." They stare at each other. Spencer blinks first.

"Because that's healthy," Spencer says, looking down at his hands.

Ryan drops his forehead onto Spencer's shoulder. Spencer breathes out and reaches up to cup the back of Ryan's neck; he's warm and slick with sweat from the too-close, suddenly claustrophobic air of the room. Spencer really does just want to get closer, stop this conversation and give Ryan what he wants. That's part of the problem, how strongly part of him has always wanted Ryan to have whatever he wants. There's a danger there, in giving that part more power, but maybe it already has all the power it needs anyway. And if the tension they've been sitting on doesn't break, he's not sure how he's going to keep breathing through it. That's stupidly overblown, melodramatic, but he's drunk and he realizes only now with Ryan pressed up against him, how much they haven't been touching lately, how much they haven't been really talking beyond their orchestrated facade of normal, how deeply he felt the lack. He's drunk enough to make this necessary and immediate, drunk enough to not care.

Ryan pulls away and looks up and Spencer's a little shaken by how earnest he looks. "You _wouldn't_, though. And I wouldn't. Whatever you're afraid of. You have to trust me. "

Spencer says, shocked into movement, "I do. You know I do."

"Do you?" Ryan asks, skepticism deepening his voice. He's got one hand on the side of Spencer's neck, searching Spencer's face.

Spencer tightens his hand on Ryan's shoulder and says "Of course, of course, you know that." He squeezes Ryan's shoulder when Ryan closes his eyes and looks away. It's not like that. It's not that easy, maybe, but it's not _distrust_. Spencer looks over Ryan's shoulder to catch a few people at the bar looking at them. There's no way anything they've said is audible, but Spencer's guessing that their body language is pretty suggestive. He sighs and stands up, pulling Ryan to his feet too. There's a rush of the alcohol to his head and he's staggers a little, catching himself with one hand on the side of the table. His heart is stuttering, throbbing at his pulse points. He's really fucking glad they're in the hotel bar. He tugs Ryan toward the door. "Come on, we'll talk about this upstairs."

The elevators are next to the bar entrance, thank God, since they're both still unsteady and holding each other up. They're not talking now, but they're right up against each other in the elevator; they have to be to walk. Spencer can feel every point of contact. Ryan's palm is flat against Spencer's side where he's got his arm around Spencer's waist. He's breathing against Spencer's neck and Spencer's whole body tightens. If he turned his head, they'd be kissing. Almost before he finishes thinking it, he does just that and then they are kissing, like the first night, fast and insistent and needy. Ryan breaks away when the elevator stops and Spencer, not even thinking, trying not to think, tries to pull him back, but Ryan shakes his head, pulling Spencer out of the elevator by the hand. "No. Pictures." And he's right. They can't afford not to be cautious. They still don't let go of each other completely as they stumble down the hall to Ryan's room.

They're kissing again as soon as they get through the door and get it shut behind them. Ryan trips over his jeans trying to get out of them on the way to the bed; Spencer gets tangled in his own clothes trying to take them off and kiss Ryan at the same time. The whole thing is chaotic and undignified and happening in fragmented fits and starts where everything has contracted down to just them. Finally, Ryan backs up against the bed, pulling Spencer down on top of him and laughing into the crook of his neck. Then they're skin to skin, wrapped around each other. Spencer kisses Ryan's neck, kisses down his chest and stomach. Ryan pants and bucks up against him and Spencer uses one arm to hold Ryan's hips down as he takes Ryan's cock in his mouth.

He mouths the head and it's sloppy and messy; he's too drunk for anything else. His attempts to hold Ryan's hips down aren't quite enough and when Spencer cups Ryan's balls in his other hand and runs one finger back behind them, Ryan fists the sheets and pumps his hips. Spencer gags around him and pulls away and Ryan breathes out, "Sorry, sorry," his fingers scrambling at Spencer shoulder and his cock glistens, swollen against his stomach.

Spencer pulls back to stroke the inside of Ryan's thigh soothingly and then fists Ryan's cock and guides it back into his mouth, sucking harder and still holding Ryan down, but trying to move with the light rhythm of his hips. Ryan gasps and arches, drags his fingers across Spencer's shoulder and comes and Spencer swallows around him, working him through it and then reaching down to fist his own cock and jerk off quickly, still mouthing at the inside of Ryan's thigh. Ryan says, "Hey, come up here," sounding breathy and ragged, but Spencer was so close already and his orgasm swells and pulses through his entire body.

Ryan tugs at Spencer once they can both move again, pulling him up next to him and Spencer collapses at his side, tugging Ryan closer and kissing him, slow and languid. Ryan breaks the kiss and puts one hand against Spencer's face and says, "This wasn't really part of my plan either."

Spencer kisses Ryan again, breaking the kiss only long enough to murmur, "It's okay; we're okay." Right now it is and they are. Right now it's completely okay and he knows he's made it harder than it has to be. Because this? _Them_? It doesn't have to be that hard. He does wish the room would stop spinning; he feels like he's been spinning for months and even when he closes his eyes there's that tilt, though it's a little better, a little more stable, when he's hanging onto Ryan. This time they sleep wrapped around each other. Spencer buries his face in Ryan's neck as Ryan's breathing slows, and it's in that moment, in the intimate aftermath, that something in him really breaks open and gives in.

***

Spencer wakes up nauseous and shaky and alone. The heavy curtains are pulled open - either that's how they left them or Ryan is evil - and the sun carves its way through the room, cuts across his eyes, makes his head throb. There's the sour taste of beer and come in the back of his throat; he's achy and sex sticky and still exhausted. He pushes himself up, cursing the lack of aspirin and water the night before. The sound of the shower only manages to penetrate the fog in his brain when it shuts off. The silence almost magnifies the pounding in his head and the dizzy, pin-pricked quality of the light.

When Ryan emerges from the bathroom, he's fully clothed, with paisley scarves and the horrible pinstripe hat, clashing patterns of deflection that make Spencer's head spin. When he comes over to set a styrofoam cup of coffee from the in-room coffee maker next to Spencer's head, Spencer can see that he's wearing eyeliner too, faintly drawn, just an accent. It's not dark and vivid like the mask it used to be, but it's still a defense mechanism and a fucking recognizable warning sign.

"Good morning," Ryan says, friendly and calculatedly distant. Spencer takes a sip of the coffee; it's awful and bitter on his tongue, worse because it's lukewarm. He wonders how long Ryan's been awake.

"Morning," he says and his voice comes out rough. He figures that whatever happens next, whatever conversation is going to come from this, happens now. He kind of hates that because he's too tired for the kind of emotion that's already roiling in him, squeezing his stomach worse than the hangover. He's not totally sure he's not going to throw up. He pushes himself out of bed, awkwardly pulls what he can find of his clothes on as best as he can and watches Ryan, who is conspicuously not looking at him, shove things into his suitcase.

He finally walks over to Ryan and puts a hand on his shoulder, forcing him to turn around. When Ryan meets Spencer's eyes there's something determined and resigned in his expression that makes Spencer pause.

"Hey," Spencer breathes out, in what he hopes is a reassuring way and runs his hand down Ryan's arm. Ryan leans into it, briefly, but then shakes his head and pulls away.

"Not right now, okay? I just...I can't." Spencer backs up, unsettled, but not that surprised. Ryan's never been good with the aftermath of emotion.

"Ryan," he starts, in a way that he means to sound practical but that mostly comes out a little pleading.

Ryan's eyes widen and he shakes his head and says, "_Not now_." When Ryan turns back to the mirror it's a dismissal. Spencer gathers up the rest of his debris from the night before and makes his escape.

When he gets back to his room, Brendon's hovering in the hallway. He braces himself since he's fairly clearly just now arriving and also fairly clearly wearing his clothes from the night before. Brendon's eyes widen a little, but he just nods good morning and says, "Everybody's in the lobby. We tried to call you; we're going for real breakfast. We can wait, uh, if you want?"

Spencer shakes his head. "I'm just... gonna shower and hang out here. You guys go ahead. I figure there are bagels in the lobby." There probably aren't because it's almost noon, but whatever. He doesn't really care because the thought of food makes his stomach turn and if he does get hungry there are convenience stores and there's a Burger King next door. There are lots of places where people he knows are not, is really the point.

Brendon nods and looks down the hallway, shuffles a little bit from foot to foot because he is _so bad at subtlety_. Spencer sighs and mostly just wants to not be talking to anyone. Brendon says, "Um, I'm gonna go ask Ryan," and cuts his eyes away.

Spencer says, "You do that," and ducks inside his hotel room.

***

The rest of the day passes in a blur. Everybody overdid it the night before and they're all a mess, moving slow and sluggish, but Spencer mostly feels like he's on autopilot. It's not just the usual playing a show while feeling like shit, because he's totally done that before, it's that the only way he can get through it is to operate on instinct. He knows the music forward and backward; he gets through the trip to venue and through soundcheck, quietly grateful for Brendon, who seems determined to make himself into a distraction. He's stepped up his usual enthusiasm until he's just a bit louder, just a little more touchy-feely, just slightly more magnetic with exaggerated charm than usual. He smiles and quips and drapes himself over Jon and Ryan, pulls Shane into the middle of the stage and makes him waltz, then does the same with Cassie. He may occasionally shoot Spencer or Ryan a curious look, but he doesn't say anything.

The show goes surprisingly smoothly; Brendon's electric and Jon's still silly with happiness, despite spending most of the day looking hungover and pale. This time Jon calls Cassie out on stage to introduce her as his fiancé. They both cry again and the crowd cheers and it's a really good distraction from the fact that Ryan's more reserved than usual, quiet and turned in on himself, only half-heartedly responding to Brendon's attempts to engage him. Spencer's just relieved he can hide behind his drums.

***

After the show, Ryan disappears fairly quickly onto the other bus - almost as quickly as Spencer makes a run for his own. He has it almost to himself because Brendon vanishes onto The Cab bus vowing to destroy them all at poker. Shane's there, but he passes out in the bunks almost immediately, leaving Spencer curled up in the lounge watching the extended edition of _The Fellowship of the Ring_. He's too wired to sleep, hopped up on nerves and adrenaline and the fear that his world is more precarious than he ever thought it was.

When they stop for food, he stays where he is because his stomach is still churning too much to eat, but when Brendon comes banging back onto the bus, he drops a greasy white paper bag onto the couch in front of Spencer.

"Thanks," Spencer says, barely looking up from the movie.

Brendon nods. He studies Spencer for a moment and then sits down on the couch next to him. "Here," Brendon says. He empties the plastic bag he's carrying, handing Spencer three Gobstoppers, a Twinkie, a joint, four paper clips and a pair of girls' underwear. It's a fairly normal haul, actually, because that's what happens when you play poker with The Cab. They don't play with real money anymore because apparently that leads to fist fights and its just better for everyone's sanity if they play with whatever they find lying around the bus.

Spencer dumps it all onto the table and says, "Did you win?"

Brendon looks at his collection and shrugs. "I left before it became strip poker?"

Spencer nods. "Yeah, that's kind of like winning."

Brendon shrugs and Spencer says, imitating Shane, "Because not all of us have seen Cash Colligan naked. Or want to."

Brendon opens the plastic on the Twinkie and shoves the whole thing in his mouth. Spencer makes a face so Brendon chews at him with his mouth open until Spencer laughs and tries to push him off the couch. It feels good to laugh, a little closer to normal, though it doesn't really loosen the tightness in his chest.

Brendon swallows and pushes back good-naturedly. But then he quiets and leans back into the couch. "But we've all seen Ryan naked, right?" He says it with a certain amount of calculated nonchalance, but he's not really looking at Spencer.

Spencer sighs and closes his eyes. It's not like he's shocked. It's not like he thought Brendon didn't _know_ or really expected Brendon not to bring it up sooner or later (and he's not surprised that it's sooner). He's just been caught off-guard way too much recently when it comes to Ryan and he feels like all his normal defenses are down. The sarcastic retorts, the ability for self-preservation, it's just not there. So much for discretion. And plausible deniability.

Brendon looks at him out of the corner of his eye and says, "That was a euphemism."

Spencer says, "I know, Brendon."

"Okay. I was trying to be subtle."

Spencer sighs again and rubs a hand over his face. "You should work on your subtlety."

"Yeah, so should you. Are you guys gonna be okay? Just... I... don't know what happened? I mean, as far as timing. And I know you think we don't notice anything, but even if we were as oblivious as you seem to think we are, you get how hard to miss it is, right?"

"Oh," Spencer says weakly.

Brendon says, "Jon and I don't like it when mommy and daddy fight."

Spencer rolls his eyes and shoves at Brendon. Brendon grabs Spencer's arm and shakes it lightly. "Look. Even without your walk of shame this morning, you guys have been...am I way off base here?"

Spencer shrugs. "Not way off," he says.

Brendon nods. "Okay. Do you know what Ryan said to me when Shane and I got together?"

"No."

"It was right after the Out interview, so I guess we'd been together for a little while," Brendon pauses and Spencer nods; he hadn't been in LA yet then, but he clearly remembers the interview and everything leading up to it, including Brendon sitting the rest of the band down and surprising no one by saying he and Shane weren't just roommates anymore. Brendon had been sure of what he wanted, and Brendon's always been willing to take risks when he's sure of what he wants, but it was still an intense time.

Brendon shrugs. "I was out with Ryan one night and we were drunk and he told me I was lucky that Shane was my best friend, that I had the possibility of that with someone who was already that to me. He didn't say it quite like that, but that was the idea of it. It wasn't really that long after Keltie; I don't know, I didn't think about it then, and it didn't occur to me that there might be context until now, but. I'm just saying it's occurred to me. So."

Spencer shakes his head. He doesn't know how long this has been conscious for Ryan. He doesn't even know how long it's been conscious for him. He's just kind of aware that it's always been there, and they don't know how to deal with it and they're both terrified. Last night Ryan said, "Trust me" and this morning he said, "I can't" and somewhere between last night and this morning everything got _worse_ which Spencer hadn't actually thought was possible. He was scared before. He's more scared now.

"I know, Brendon. Look, there's something going on, and yeah, I think it's crap timing, but I don't know that I think there's good timing. There's way too much history."

"I don't think..." Brendon says.

Spencer takes a deep breath and interrupts him to say the rest of it. "He's needed me for a long time; I don't know how to be his best friend like I've always been and also be..." he trails off and gestures absently.

"Boyfriend?" Brendon supplies helpfully. Spencer glares.

Spencer says, quietly, "You can't be everything to someone." It's more than he's said to anybody else about the situation and it feels kind of good to say something, even if Brendon is just kind of sitting there blinking at him.

Of course, maybe Spencer does know how to be both; this new thing with Ryan isn't that new and Spencer had been ready to go with it, nearly won over, until Ryan had freaked on him this morning. Because if he's finally being completely honest with himself, he wants to be won over. They could probably go back eventually; that was Ryan's point, that in the end they will probably always be okay, but he _wants_ more and how Ryan looked, arched up beneath him, that's not something he's ever going to forget or recover from completely.

Brendon says, "He's okay without you."

"What?"

"Remember when he moved to LA and you didn't? Ryan was fine."

"He got his power turned off three times. He set off his burglar alarm so that the cops came twice, and then he set his kitchen on fire."

Brendon shrugs. "Well, yeah. But he always does that stuff. I...didn't think that was what you were talking about."

"Okay..." Spencer says.

"He missed you, but he was fine. Or as fine as anyone who spends that much time with Pete can be. And I know he wasn't the only reason you moved to LA. You got dumped and Shane and I were there too and we're really cool, but you didn't move there because _he_ needed _you_. At least not only. I'm just saying."

Spencer stares at Brendon for a second wondering when, exactly, Brendon Urie turned into the voice of sanity. Brendon still might not really get it, but he's not wrong. It's always gone both ways. That doesn't uncomplicate the situation, but still. Huh. "That was...almost insightful."

Brendon rolls his eyes. "Thanks. I love how shocked you are right now." He knocks his shoulder into Spencer's and then picks up the white paper bag, dumping its contents onto the table with what's left of his poker winnings. He picks up one of the hamburgers that is clearly congealing in its own grease. "You okay? Because I'm gonna go give this to Shane."

Spencer darts his eyes back and forth between Brendon and the door to the bunks. "I'm okay. But I think I'm gonna sleep on the couch."

Brendon says, "I promise we can behave ourselves."

Spencer says, "No, you can't."

Brendon laughs and flips him off before disappearing into the bunks.

***

Two hours later, Spencer's still sitting on the couch watching the DVD menu on a muted loop and replaying the scene from the hotel that morning over and over. He's given up trying to sleep because he involuntarily ends up replaying the softer scene from the night before every time he closes his eyes. Those memories aren't so burned in his brain, more choppy sensation than anything, but they're more physical, like his body remembers the details that his mind forgot, hot and sparking and vivid, in sharp contrast to the cold starkness of the morning.

Ryan had pulled away and said, "Not right now" and when he looked up at Spencer he'd been tight and contained, the same expression of walled off resolve he'd thrown up that night by the car when Spencer had said "This isn't us."

Oh, fuck. _Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck_.

Spencer jolts up straighter with the realization, knocking his Coke can off the table in the process of fumbling for his phone. Another fucked up encounter, like the first one, and no wonder Ryan would think the same thing would happen all over again. No wonder Ryan can't read him when he can't even read himself, when they've so clearly been talking past each other. Spencer hadn't known _what_ he was going to say, hadn't fought through all his apprehensions yet; maybe he still hasn't, but all those apprehensions were only based on two things: a fear of surrendering too much of himself and the almost panicky refusal to risk fucking up the most important relationship in his life. It might be too late for the first but sitting around letting the tension build up isn't doing anything to help the second.

He texts _R u awake?_

He waits about five minutes that seem interminable and then Ryan texts back _Y_.

_Can we talk?_

_Now?_

_Need 2 talk 2 u_

_On phone? Not like this_

Ryan's right; not over text and not over the phone in the middle of the night with the others sleeping in the bunks. Spencer wasn't thinking, and he's not quite over his need for contact, but yeah, not over the fucking phone. Fuck the separate buses.

_2morrow. MORNING_

There's another long pause - probably still not that much longer than five minutes, but everything feels longer, dragged out.

And then: _Fine_.

There's too much frustration in that one word and Spencer's aware that he's projecting because Ryan's mood shouldn't be readable via text message, but he knows Ryan can't feel any better than he does.

He thinks _fuck it_ and texts: _Call me_ and waits. It's ten minutes this time before his phone beeps again.

_No we'll talk 2morrow_.

Spencer sighs, texts _Its going to be okay_ and waits again, but Ryan doesn't respond.

***

It's six hours to Cleveland, seven with the stops, so it's early when they pull in, but Spencer hasn't really slept. He dozed for a few hours near dawn, but the nervous churning under his ribcage kept him awake. They pull into the hotel around nine (the next show's Columbus, which is only a few hours, so that means another night in a real bed - not that the last one was what Spencer would call relaxing). It's early for the hotel, but it's early for the venue too.

Spencer gets up out of habit to fumble around the kitchenette. There's nothing appetizing and he's not sure he could eat it if there was; it occurs to him that he should be starving; he barely ate yesterday except for half of the truckstop greaseball of a hamburger that Brendon dropped in his lap at one am, but he couldn't even finish that - partly because it was really kind of disgusting, but partly because the nervous churning (that he can only disingenuously attribute to lack of sleep or leftover hangover) threatened to make him throw up and that feeling really hasn't gone anywhere.

Brendon and Shane, who must have woken when the bus stopped moving, stumble out when Jon knocks on the door to tell them that he and Cassie are going for food. Ryan's not with them. Everybody seems a little surprised when Spencer bows out again.

"You didn't come yesterday either," Jon says, looking at him with concern.

Spencer shrugs, "I didn't sleep well." He smiles, "Bring me back pancakes?" He'll make an effort to eat them, anyway.

Once they're gone he waits about fifteen minutes before he decides to head over to the other bus, but when he opens the door, Ryan's standing there, hand poised to knock.

He drops his hand and smiles wryly. "Hey."

"Hey."

Spencer stands aside and lets Ryan come in to perch awkwardly on the edge of the couch. He's lacking most of his accouterments today, though he does have a scarf around his neck, probably because it gives him something to fiddle with. There's anxiety written in every line of his body.

Spencer sits closer than probably either of them is comfortable with right now but _fuck that_. Seriously, fuck that.

He touches Ryan's elbow and Ryan starts, but at least it makes him look at Spencer. His eyes are too wide.

Spencer says, "So, how did you want to do this?" Ryan cocks his head and Spencer says, "At the bar, you said you didn't want to do it like that. How did you want to do it?"

Ryan shrugs, sharp and tense. "With less room for drunken mistakes. Because one or both of us might regret _that_." He bites out the last word.

Spencer flinches. It's hard for Ryan; Spencer knows it has to be. Ryan's never been good at showing his own vulnerability; he sees it as a weakness. Spencer has watched almost twenty fucking years of Ryan lashing out at other people who he thinks have seen him with too many of his shields down. That has never - ever - applied to or been directed at Spencer.

He reaches for Ryan again, even though Ryan shrugged him off, and tries to be soothing. "It's okay."

Ryan blinks at him a little disbelieving. "Yes, I'm _sure_, I thought I made that point. But... maybe I was wrong and you were right. I don't know how to talk to you right now; this doesn't feel okay and it doesn't really feel like it's going to get there."

"I don't regret it," Spencer says, "and I wasn't right."

Ryan shakes his head. "Really? That wasn't some weird new way of handling me? Because...I don't know, Spence. I don't really want to feel like I'm being handled or like I can't take care of myself and have to be saved from myself all the time. I don't want you to _think_ I have to be handled."

Spencer swallows. "I don't think that."

"Oh? You don't think that it's your responsibility to protect me from my own stupidity? You don't think it's your job to clean up after me? You think you're so much less neurotic than I am, but you know, you're really not. If I'm really as irresponsible and difficult as all that, why do you put up with me?"

Spencer recoils; stung somewhere deep and says, "If I'm so condescending why do you put up with me?"

"I don't know, why do I?" Ryan spits out. Spencer flinches, draws in a sharp breath and his reaction must be visible because Ryan deflates almost immediately and his eyes go shocked and pained. "Fuck, I didn't mean that; you _know_ I didn't mean that. God, _Spence_." His voice cracks on Spencer's name.

Spencer says, "I know." He does know that. It still hurt.

Ryan's quiet and then says, "So, what do we do now?"

Spencer says, "I wasn't handling you. I know...why you thought that. It's a stupid thing to think, by the way, but I know."

"So what? It's a bad idea; we were fucked up like the last time? It'll fuck up our friendship? You might be right about that last one."

"_No_, listen to me."

Ryan turns his head at the intensity in Spencer's voice. Spencer says, "I'm saying I was wrong and I'm saying I'm sorry."

Ryan says, "Okay, then _what_? Tell me this isn't just me."

Spencer closes his eyes and braces himself. He says, "Fuck. You know it's not just you."

"Then what?" Ryan asks. His eyes narrow like something's occurring to him "Does the Jake thing bother you? Or that I'm okay with being out and visible . . ."

He trails off, and looks at Spencer confused, like he doesn't really believe that. Spencer still blinks, shocked. That's so far down the list of things he's had to worry about that it hadn't even occurred to him to worry about it yet. Thinking about it now, though, no, it doesn't matter. He doesn't care. Ryan can announce it on stage tonight if he wants to, if it would fucking fix this. "What? Fuck. I don't care about that. I wouldn't want..._Ryan_."

"Then _what_?" Ryan asks again and Spencer isn't sure how to answer that question; there's nothing that's not going to sound bad.

"I had to know you're serious." That's not quite what he means, because of course Ryan _means_ it, but Ryan doesn't weigh risks the way he should; Spencer weighs risks, that's part of what he's there for. So, no, he's not positive that Ryan's thought this through, but he still _so totally deserves it_ when Ryan's face goes blank.

Ryan blinks, "Right, of course. Because clearly I'm gonna fuck around with this."

"You don't . . ."

"I don't what? I don't mean to?" Ryan chokes out, voice low and chilled, "Like I don't mean to hurt people?"

"That's not fair," Spencer says. Ryan shakes his head, clearly _pissed_, but doesn't respond. Spencer continues, "I don't mean that you take it lightly. Just...you threw me, you know? The way it happened. You ignoring me after Jake and then we didn't talk and...Why now? What changed, Ryan?"

Ryan's off the couch and at the door, still looking totally shut down. "We grew up? I wasn't afraid of all the things I used to be afraid of anymore? I got tired of waiting?" He takes a deep breath and says, "I'm going."

"I didn't mean it like that," Spencer says, "you _know_ I didn't mean it like that." He throws Ryan's words back at him and Ryan pauses in the doorway.

He turns back to look at Spencer. "I know you didn't."

Spencer takes a breath and hopes. Ryan _was_ right; it's not just that they forgive each other, it's that they wouldn't hurt each other on that level. Even when they're pushing buttons on purpose, they don't go all the way; don't push past the limit. Even in pain there's a level on which the other comes first.

Ryan sighs, "I know how much you care about me," he pauses at that, still with one hand on the door, and they lock eyes for a second before Ryan looks away. "I _do_, okay? Of course I do. I just don't know what we do now."

Spencer is struck by how inaccurate a description of his feelings for Ryan the phrase "care about" actually is. He's so close to pointing out that he did it all - _everything_ \- for Ryan. It's there on the edge of his tongue, when he realizes, with something of a stunned jolt of worldview altering clarity, that that's not true anymore and hasn't been for a long time, if it ever really was. Spencer loves everything about this life. He'd follow Ryan off a cliff, sure, and has done just about that, but that's because Ryan's type of crazy always works out in the end and because Ryan's just as willing to put himself in Spencer's hands. Which is exactly what he's been doing all this time.

This now, though, it's as much about Spencer wanting Ryan with him as it's ever been about either of them needing anything. Maybe it didn't used to be that way, maybe there was a more desperate kind of aching need when they were young and everything was desperate, but now...maybe they both would be okay alone. And Spencer _wants_ with a physical ache.

"Ryan," he says, trying to put as much of that into his voice as possible.

Ryan shakes his head. "And I'll be back, but right now I'm going." The door bangs shut behind him.

 

***

When Jon comes back, Spencer is staring at the wall. Jon hands him a styrofoam container with cold pancakes. Spencer puts it down on the table untouched.

"Where are the others?" Spencer asks.

"Cassie's checking in. The rooms are ready."

"Brendon and Shane?"

Jon makes the vague gesture that's become their universal sign for, _probably fucking in a broom closet somewhere._

Spencer says, "Right. Of course."

Jon quirks a lopsided grin at Spencer and says, "It has gotten _really_ gay around here."

Spencer nods and tries to keep his voice as normal as possible. "Yes. As opposed to when exactly?"

Jon shrugs. "It's gotten more explicit. It used to be artistically homoerotic, now it's all gay sex and pining." He's still smiling that distracted, happy grin he's had for days.

Spencer says, "I'm sorry we're inconvenient."

Jon turns around and his eyes go wide as he actually takes in Spencer's face. He sits down on the couch next to him. "Hey, woah, I shouldn't have said that. I'm sorry. What happened? Are you okay?"

Spencer sighs. He's not actually pissed at Jon and that's actually an incredibly accurate description of this tour so far. Jon wasn't trying to make light of anything. He's just... The thing about Jon is that he can't stand discord and will do anything in his power to resolve conflict. His role as peace-maker goes far beyond the fact that he's the most easy-going of them; it's an almost pathological inability to tolerate drama and a deep discomfort and upset when his friends are angry with each other. It's a good thing, mostly. It's saved them all more than once, and Spencer knows that. Jon has a softness of touch that Spencer's sarcastic frankness won't let him maintain. Spencer's usually grateful for Jon, but right now he just kind of wants to punch him because right now Jon's earnest need for everyone to spend all their time holding hands and singing kumbaya is not something he can handle.

Still, he shrugs and says, "I'm fine. Nothing happened."

"Okay, I'm worried about you," Jon says, putting one hand on Spencer's shoulder. "I wasn't gonna bring this up unless I had to, mostly because Ryan was fairly clear that I should mind my own business, but you and Ryan...I am worried, Spence. There's not really anybody to pick up the pieces if you take each other apart."

"I know how to be careful of Ryan," Spencer says, chokes it out both because he hasn't proven that at all lately and because he shouldn't have to be so careful. They don't have to walk cautiously around each other. That's the entire point of _them_.

Jon squeezes Spencer's shoulder and asks quietly, "But are you doing it?"

"What did he say?" Spencer asks, bracing for the answer.

"Not a lot," Jon says. Spencer raises his eyebrows; Jon shrugs and amends that to, "Enough. Mostly that he doesn't know what to do with you."

Spencer bites back his knee-jerk response that they always know what to do with each other, because apparently they don't, and even if they did that doesn't always mean they do it.

***

Ryan doesn't come back. Cassie comes back and Brendon and Shane show up with most of the rest of the tour in tow and they all play Guitar Hero on the bus and Spencer hates - really _hates_ \- how clear it is that absolutely everyone obviously knows what's going on. (They have hotel rooms and yet they're all crowded on one bus in order to entertain Spencer. They know what's going on). He's grateful for them too, though. No one says anything and they're trying so hard. There's been only concern from Brendon and Jon, no real resentment at all about the group dynamic being so upended. (And he knows how visible it is now; he's been kidding himself for awhile. Whatever normalcy he and Ryan maintained at the beginning fell apart a long time ago).

Ryan calls shortly before they're supposed to head to the venue and Spencer ducks back into the bunks.

"Hey."

"Hey," Ryan says, and he doesn't sound quite so pissed anymore. "Is everybody over there?"

"Yeah."

"Okay."

There's a long silence. Spencer says, "I'm sorry."

"Me too. I know I attacked you. I just had to leave or I was gonna make it worse."

"Are you okay?" Spencer asks. It's the same question he's been asking all this time and he hates being the reason for it.

"Yeah," Ryan says, "you?"

Spencer sighs. "I've been better."

Ryan snorts; he sounds simultaneously amused, annoyed and exhausted. "Yeah, me too. But I've been worse. Look, I'm back on the other bus, okay? It's almost time to leave and we can't... We'll talk later, okay?"

Spencer says, "Okay," and hangs up. He's not totally sure how he's gonna get through the show.

***

Spencer assumed Ryan meant after the show, so Spencer's not really expecting it when Ryan comes up behind him while he's watching The Cab's soundcheck and slips his hand around Spencer's elbow, whispers "Come with me," urgently in his ear, and tugs him over around the corner and down the hall, away from the others. Even when he gets Spencer away, Ryan doesn't let go.

Spencer says, "Hey," softly, covering Ryan's hand with his own, grateful for the physical contact. Ryan looks up and meets Spencer's eyes, and Spencer _sees_ exasperation and chagrin and _I'm sorry_ and _I don't know_ and _Oh, my God, you asshole_. It's all laced with bone-deep affection and he can read it all so clearly, like Ryan said it out loud, that some of the tension unknots from his spine and he sighs in relief.

Ryan laughs a little, still shaky and a little tense, and slides down the wall, tugging Spencer with him. Spencer sighs and settles, sitting on the floor in the musty venue hallway and just breathes, tangling his fingers with Ryan's until they're holding hands. Ryan's holding tight. They'd be really visible if anyone came looking for them, but he doesn't really care.

Ryan says, again, "I'm sorry."

Spencer squeezes his hand. "I know. Me too. And you were right."

Ryan shakes his head. "I wasn't. Not completely. But neither were you." Spencer nods. Ryan says, "You were really exceptionally wrong, actually. You have to stop, okay?"

"Stop?" Spencer asks.

"Just...quit. Relax. You don't have to be the responsible one all the time. You're not the only one who can make rational decisions."

Under normal circumstances, Spencer might argue that point - which Ryan knows because before Spencer can even respond at all, Ryan squeezes Spencer's hand again and says, "Spence. _Stop_."

Spencer says, "Look at me," and waits until Ryan's looking right at him and then says, "I trust you. Completely. Okay? With everything." And that's more important in this moment than anything. It's more important than "I love you" because Ryan knows that part. The terms of that might have been being negotiated, but the fact of it was never up for debate.

Ryan shakes his head. "_Serious_ Spence? You wanted to know if I was serious? This is one of the most complicated, serious things that has ever happened to me. In my life. And you know the things that have happened to me because you've fucking been there for most of them. If it wasn't you..."

"Then what?" Spencer asks.

Ryan laughs sharply, "I don't know. It's completely a hypothetical because I wouldn't put up with this from anybody else, but I don't think there's anyone else who _could_ put me through this so that doesn't really matter."

"Hey," Spencer says, "I wouldn't put up with your shit for anybody else either."

"That's romantic. Will you put up with it for me?"

Spencer searches Ryan's face. Ryan says, "No, you know, you're really gonna have to say it."

"Have I ever really told you no? In the end, I mean, about something like this. When it's important." Ryan looks confused and Spencer says, "I've never really wanted to."

Ryan says, "Because that's healthy," and looks at Spencer pointedly, deadpan, and no one else but Spencer would even be able to tell that he's trying not to smile.

Spencer says, "Shut up, asshole" and turns enough that he can reach up and cup Ryan's jaw and kiss him, cutting off whatever response Ryan was going to make. Ryan clenches his hand in Spencer's shirt, tugging him closer, and kisses back hard, licking into Spencer mouth and they fumble together until Spencer's awkwardly braced against the wall with Ryan half on top of him. They're not hidden at all; the others aren't that far away; it's possible they've already been seen, and Spencer still just does not fucking _care_. In tandem their phones start buzzing with text messages that it's probably not safe to ignore and Spencer groans in frustration, breaking the kiss but keeping his forehead pressed against Ryan's.

The world's spinning a little bit again, and the only thing it can be blamed on this time is how enormous this really is. When Ryan pulls back completely he looks dazed with his hair mussed and his lips kiss swollen and Spencer's chest constricts. Whatever the expression on his face is, it makes Ryan breathe out, "Fuck," almost in wonder, and kiss Spencer again, slow and searching until Spencer pulls away reluctantly.

"They're calling because they don't want to come look for us. We don't want to make them."

Ryan huffs, but he lets Spencer pull him to his feet and they make their way back to the stage and the others.

***

Spencer spends a lot of the show distracted, but he still feels _on_, maybe just because he also feels like he can breathe easily for the first time in months.

It also feels like the longest show they play all tour and he spends a lot of it watching Ryan. Ryan is on too. He banters with the audience and flirts right back at Brendon, and it's more playful, less defiant, than it's been up until this point. He hovers near Spencer's drum set in between songs, and Spencer can feel himself grinning every time their eyes meet. He feels dumb; it's just Ryan. Except it's not just anything. He looks up after "That Green Gentleman" to catch Ryan watching him. Ryan winks and they both crack up, over nothing, over each other, mostly in hysterical relief because the tension's finally siphoning off. Since laughing in inappropriate places makes it almost impossible to stop, when Spencer gets himself under control long enough to notice that Brendon and Jon have stopped what they're doing to stare in bemusement, it sets him off again, which sets Ryan off again and then Ryan actually has to walk off stage and sit down he's laughing so hard.

Brendon turns back to the microphone and says brightly, "Okay! So we're not in on that joke." Spencer does his best to take deep breaths to calm himself. Neither one of them has ever quite lost it so completely during a show. (Brendon has, but they haven't). The reviews of the show are gonna be _awesome_ tomorrow.

Brendon corners Spencer after the show, bouncing with his usual post-show buzz, and says, "We're going out. Are you coming or are you busy?" There's something suggestive about the way he weights the word "busy," which means he's no longer being sympathetic and serious because he already knows the answer.

Spencer says, "Don't start. And I'm going back to the hotel."

Brendon laughs. "I'll start if I want to. You owe all of us for being patient and understanding while you were making everyone on the tour miserable."

Spencer rolls his eyes, but yeah, okay; Brendon probably has a point. Over his shoulder Spencer can see Ryan having what is probably a similar conversation with Jon. He's smiling and shaking his head. When Spencer catches Ryan's attention, he cocks his head toward the door. Ryan edges around Jon, who is clearly laughing at him, and follows Spencer out.

***

Ryan sits on the bed and Spencer stands with his back against the door watching him. Things are tense again; it's a different kind of tension, heavy with anticipation more than with suspense or worry, though it's still making Spencer's heart beat high in his throat.

"How long?" He asks Ryan. It's just a question, not a challenge and he doesn't actually mean _how long_. He knows the answer to that. It's just . . . "How long were you seriously considering this?" He means, _What made you decide to cross the line_.

Ryan shrugs. "I wasn't really, until it happened. Or I always was, maybe. I didn't plan it, that first night, if that's what you're asking. I just...went with it." Spencer swallows. That's out of character for Ryan. Ryan takes risks when he has to, but he's careful about them, and he plans. Ryan looks down and continues,. "I'd been thinking about it, but I didn't plan it. I wouldn't have done it like that."

"You didn't do anything the way you meant to, did you?" Spencer asks.

Ryan laughs softly and shakes his head. "It's a good thing you knew what I meant."

"I always do," Spencer says and goes to sit on the bed, close to Ryan, one hand on Ryan's shoulder. Ryan raises his eyebrows. Spencer says, "Eventually." Part of it was that he didn't know Ryan could still surprise him. He should have known have known that.

Ryan leans closer. "What changed is that the timing's finally right. It means we're ready; that's all." All Spencer can do is nod and then Ryan's kissing him; there's no desperation behind it. It's just deep and intimate until everything in him is tingling and he feels completely warm and open. Nothing has changed, except that everything has, and they stay like that, slow and lazy making out, until Ryan pulls back and says, "Really, what were you so afraid of?"

"Losing you," Spencer says, and he's surprised how thick his voice sounds when it comes out, surprised he could voice it at all because there it is, in two words, everything that's scared him most about all of this, distilled down to the simple fundamentals. He was afraid of having this and losing it. He was a little afraid of losing himself too, maybe, but that was an older fear, left over from a time when they could have consumed each other. They've come out the other side of the trial by fire that soldered them together. They've been on the other side of it for a long, long time, in reality, but they're still stronger for it.

Ryan's eyes go dark and startled at that, and he pulls Spencer back to him and crushes their mouths back together, rougher and with more intensity and Ryan's breathing things against Spencer's skin that sound like "never" and "couldn't" and just Spencer's name. Spencer pulls away to tug off his own shirt and then fumbles with the buttons on Ryan's vest.

He asks, "Why are your clothes always so ridiculous?" and Ryan laughs and kisses him again, gently, on the corner of his mouth, with more affection than heat and shoves Spencer's hands away to get at the buttons.

Ryan says, "That's not very smooth. Are you any better at getting girls bras off?"

Spencer rolls his eyes, but he pulls off his pants and watches Ryan shed the rest of his clothes and then lets Ryan pull him down onto the bed so that they're lying side by side, staring at each other.

Ryan says, "Hi," and his voice is scratchy and warm.

Spencer says, "Hi," and pulls Ryan to him, kissing him again and pushing him over onto his back so that Spencer's on top, pinning Ryan to the bed and tonguing at the spot just above his collarbone where he'd left Ryan marked the first time. Ryan moans and arches his neck and tries to work his hand between their bodies. Ryan's touch, light and electric, on the skin of his lower stomach goes straight to his cock and he shudders.

Spencer scrapes his teeth against Ryan's skin and Ryan gasps. Ryan sounds a little out of breath and dazed when he says, "Okay, okay, you're totally smooth, I take it back." He pauses, "We really should have tried this sober before."

Spencer licks his palm and wraps his hand around Ryan's cock, working his own hips in the same rhythm against Ryan's thigh. Ryan bites down on Spencer's bottom lip. It takes most of Spencer's willpower to still his movements, but he relaxes and drops his face against Ryan's neck. He doesn't want it quite so quick and frantic this time. There's no reason not to take their time now. Ryan whimpers in protest and slides one hand around the back of Spencer's neck, rubbing circles there with his thumb. When Spencer pulls his head up to meet Ryan's eyes, Ryan murmurs a question.

Spencer kisses him and fumbles in the bag he left by the bed until he finds what he's looking for and then presses the condom and lube into Ryan's hand. He says, "You should probably fuck me." His cock throbs at the thought of it.

He drops his head and kisses Ryan's neck, biting down lightly and then licking to soothe the sting. Ryan breathes out, "Fuck."

Spencer says, "_Yes_."

Ryan stills and runs his hand down Spencer's arm. "Yeah. I can do that."

They kiss again, rolling over so that Ryan's on top. Ryan breathes, "Relax," in Spencer's ear, and then he's sliding down Spencer's body. Ryan uses a lot of lube, but the first push of his finger is still almost too much. It's been a long time. Spencer inhales shakily and Ryan makes shushing noises, kissing along the inside of Spencer's thigh and mouthing at his cock, in rhythm with the push of his fingers in Spencer's ass. Spencer gasps when Ryan pulls back and adds a second, sucking harder at Spencer's cock now and pressing harder and when he hits Spencer's prostate, Spencer's vision goes dim; he fists his hands in the sheets and he can't stop his hips from bucking. Ryan pulls his head back, rubbing his left hand low on Spencer's stomach, but he doesn't stop fucking him; he just adds more lube and a third finger, crawling back up Spencer's body until he can kiss Spencer, fucking into his mouth with the same rhythm. Spencer digs his fingers into Ryan's shoulder and Ryan moans, pressing closer. His cock is trailing wet against Spencer's hip.

Spencer tears his mouth away from Ryan's and says, "What the fuck are you waiting for?"

Ryan laughs again and pulls his fingers away; Spencer tries not to whimper at the emptiness. He has his eyes closed, so he doesn't see anything, just hears the tear of the condom wrapper and then the slow, building pressure of Ryan opening him up gradually, with shallow thrusts, and holy _fuck_. Three fingers isn't quite the same thing. But then Ryan's all the way in, and leaning over him, kissing him, hot and dirty. Ryan says, "Okay?"

Spencer says, "You can move any day now." Because yeah, it's a lot, but it's also not enough as he's adjusting to it. His cock is leaking against his stomach and his whole body is sparking with awareness. Then Ryan _does_ move, and Spencer pretty much wants to take back every crack he's ever made about Ryan not actually having rhythm. Every thrust throbs through his body and the pressure is relentless. Ryan hasn't touched his cock yet, but if he did, Spencer would be gone. He's digging his fingers into Ryan's side, probably hard enough to leave marks. When Ryan finally does wrap his hand around Spencer's cock, that's almost all it takes, any friction is enough by that point. Spencer shudders and comes and Ryan fucks him through it and then goes still as he follows Spencer over the edge, shaking]through the aftershocks, and then falling forward, slumped against Spencer's chest.

"Oh, my God," Ryan says.

Spencer says, "We've got to do that again."

Ryan mumbles, "Give me five minutes," and goes almost completely limp.

Spencer says, "Don't get too comfortable or we're going to regret it." He's groggy himself and he doesn't _want_ Ryan to move, but being stuck together with come isn't the best plan either.

Ryan moans in protest, but rolls off of him, pulling out, which makes Spencer wince a little. Ryan ties off the condom and disappears into the bathroom, coming back with a wet washcloth. Spencer rubs at his stomach with it, and Ryan crawls up beside Spencer, putting his head on Spencer's shoulder. Spencer runs his hand up and down Ryan's side, closing his eyes and letting himself drift.

Spencer can feel lingering tension in Ryan's body, though. He cracks one eye to find Ryan still staring at him. He squeezes Ryan's hip. "I can feel you thinking. What is it?" He tries not to look at Ryan with his usual please-don't-be-crazy expression, after all, Ryan wasn't the only crazy one in this scenario. It's probably not working because the look on Ryan's face is his usual shut-up-I'm-not expression.

Ryan sighs. "Nothing. Just...what do we do now? What do we say?"

Spencer says, "Now _you_ stop. We just live our lives. You had that one figured out a long time before I did."

Ryan stares at him for a second and then leans down to press their lips together again, and there's finally solid ground, stable and still. Spencer closes his eyes, kisses back and just holds on.

**Author's Note:**

> This story has fanmixes from [](http://www.livejournal.com/users/signsonaves/profile)[**signsonaves**](http://www.livejournal.com/users/signsonaves/), [](http://www.livejournal.com/users/screamkaitlin/profile)[**screamkaitlin**](http://www.livejournal.com/users/screamkaitlin/) and [](http://www.livejournal.com/users/athenejen/profile)[**athenejen**](http://www.livejournal.com/users/athenejen/) and fan art from [](http://www.livejournal.com/users/wilde_stallyn/profile)[**wilde_stallyn**](http://www.livejournal.com/users/wilde_stallyn/).   
> All extras can be found [here](http://redbrickrose.dreamwidth.org/320690.html).


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